A Titanic Love
by nowhatdidyousaydude
Summary: Tommy Ryan, Madeline Brown, and the Ship of Dreams.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

1

 **Madeline Brown**

"Goodbye, France!"

I pulled my gloves off finger by finger as I watched the whole of France move away from us. Of course, it was us that was moving. "Yes, goodbye, France," I said as I moved away from the railing. "To our room?"

My aunt Molly moved away from the railing too, huffing from yelling goodbyes to the people below. The smile that was permanently on her face gleamed. "Absolutely." She gave a heavy sigh. "I need to sit down."

I laughed, looping my arm through hers. "I hear ya."

To be the most honest, I was more than glad to leave France. I mean, it was beautiful and cultured and the rest of the trip was incredible. And Egypt was fantastic, and I was sad to see our trip end so soon, but my cousin Lawrence Junior was seriously ill. Of course, as soon as Molly heard that her favourite, though she says she doesn't have favourites, grandchild turned fatally ill, she immediately booked passage for the first ship going to New York.

That ship was the great, unsinkable Titanic.

We decided on a short tour before getting settled in our cabin to see that the ship was massive - one of the biggest I had ever seen. If it wasn't the biggest, it was one of the most lavish. The promenade deck was beautiful and clean and shiny. I wasn't allowed in the smoking room, but I took a peek inside to see soft-looking chairs and pristine and intricate tables. The reading and writing room matched the smoking room, just without all the smoke. After seeing the swimming pool, gymnasium, squash court, the Turkish bath, steam room, cool room, massage room, and hot room, we went to our cabin.

Our cabin was beautiful. It was an Empire style room of gold hues and silky bedding and curtains hung perfectly. A huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a few feet from the most beautiful vanity I had ever seen, placed in front of a big mirror with golden trim. The carpet had mesmerizing patterns with the bed sheets matching. It was beautiful.

I sat on the bed and massaged my feet as I watched the crew members put my stuff all around. "Thank you so much." I handed the last crew worker a fair sum of money. "I'm sure you can work this out among the three of you."

"Thank you, miss." He nodded, one hand folded neatly behind his back, the other gripping the bill tightly.

"You're very welcome. You're excused." I sighed after the door closed, tossing my shoes aside. I walked on the soft carpet, across my room to the different door, into the social room.

The door across from mine opened a second later and Molly emerged and she said, "Not too shabby, huh?"

I nodded. "Definitely a changed from Missouri."

"Any news from your mama about moving out?"

"Mama says I'm not movin' out until I find me a man to move out with." The rule never changed. I was nineteen and I could do as I pleased, but I did not want to be shunned from my family simply for becoming an independent woman and getting a house of my own. I could wait. For now.

Molly shook her head as she sat in one of the bigger chairs. "She always was a tough one."

"Tough is not the word I'd use -"

"Maddy, you better watch yourself," she said warningly, but not sternly. Aunt Molly let me do whatever I pleased myself to do, but she would warn me when something would not pan out in my favour, and she was always somehow right.

I sighed, taking my gloves off. "Well, Aunt Molly, what is first on our agenda?"

* * *

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in _all_ history," Mr. Ismay said, his moustache above his lip moving slightly as he talked. "Our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here designed her from the keel plates up."

I looked around the table giving an impressed look to everyone and offering a warm smile to Mr. Andrews. Cal, my aunt, Mr. Ismay, and Rose's mother all were quite invested in the conversation, though Rose seemed off in her own world. She seemed like she'd rather be in any other world than this one from the way she was acting.

Mr. Andrews gave a handsome smile. "I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged. And he she is." He slapped the table twice, making me smile. "Willed into solid reality."

Cal nodded approvingly. "Hear, hear."

I didn't care much for anything Cal had to say or any of his opinions. His behaviour at the table was tight-knit and proper, but stiff and condescending, especially towards Rose.

The waiter came around and started taking our orders and Rose lit a cigarette.

I tried to hold a smile as I looked down and pretended to fix the cloth on my lap.

"You know I don't like that, Rose," I heard Mrs. Dawson say softly, though the look on her face was anything but.

Rose gave her a sharp look, blowing the smoke out of her mouth.

I looked at my Aunt Molly as we both raised our eyebrows at each other, small smile on both of our faces. To say we were impressed might've been pushing it. To say we were amused - now that was an understatement.

"She knows." Cal reached out, taking the cigarette out of the cigarette holder and putting it out in the pretty ashtray.

Rose looked onward in a way that she seemed lost. She put the cigarette holder away and recomposed herself as Cal ordered - for him and her.

"We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce." He nodded and the his brows furrowed. He turned to Rose. "You like lamb, don't you, sweet pea?"

She smiled at him, very painfully and not very genuine.

Aunt Molly chuckled. "You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?" She pretended not to see Cal's sharp look as she turned to Mr. Andrews, looking past me. "Hey, uh, who thought of the name Titanic?" She turned to Mr. Ismay, smiling a sweet southern smile. "Was it you, Bruce?"

Bruce had almost a blush before he was composed again. "Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength."

I nodded, stirring my tea. "Well put."

"Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?" Everyone watched carefully. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest of you."

My aunt smiling, Mr. Andrews chuckling, and I choked on my tea, letting everyone turn to me. I put my cup down, putting a hand on my chest and clearing my throat. "Wrong tube."

"What's gotten into you?" Mrs. Dawson whispered to Rose and Rose stood up.

"Excuse me," she said, standing and walking out of the room.

Mrs. Dawson smiled. "I do apologize."

"She's a pistol, Cal," Aunt Molly said. "Hope you can handle her."

Cal glared. "Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, won't I, Mrs. Brown?"

Imbecile, my mother would've called him. Cal was more of a jackass.

Mr. Ismay fixed his tie. "Freud. Who is he? Is he a passenger?"

I swallowed a chuckle. "A neurologist, Mr. Ismay. And not someone you need to be worried about." I gave him a wink and a charming smile, making him stop fidgeting nervously. I turned to Mr. Andrews. "I have to say I am slowly falling in love with your ship."

"Thank you very much, Ms Brown."

"And I am hoping for a grand tour soon," I teased, touching his hand as I laughed. He was a handsome fellow.

His permanently friendly demeanour brightened. "Anything for you, Ms Brown."

"Good." I patted his hand and quickly stood. "If you'll excuse me." I walked away from our table, out of the glass double doors and beautiful room out onto the deck. The sun shone directly down on my as I felt the warmness return to my body. The smell of the ocean went into my nose and through my body. It felt cleansing.

Rose was standing at the railing looking over he lower decks. She looked like she was doing some cleansing of her own.

"Rose," I called to her, jogging up to her. I had a feeling she didn't need to be asked if she was okay, so I bumped her hip instead. "Quite the scene back there."

She looked at me, same blank look on her face. "What about it?"

I continued smiling, not taken back by her seriousness. "It was amusing. I was due for a good chuckle."

My smile finally became contagious enough for her. She smiled too. She really was a beautiful lady. "Thank you." But the smile went as quickly as it came. "I just can't help it." She sighed. "There are so many brilliant people in the world and I'm surrounded by -" She struggled with words. "By - by -"

"First class?" I said, assuming that would be explanation enough. First class people could be brilliant too, but there was no hiding it. There was no decency or appreciation or thankfulness or modesty.

"Yes. Surrounded by first class."

I looked out onto the third class deck. All of those people down there were dressed horribly, but they didn't seem to care. No one was giving looks of disapproval and no one was holding their nose in the air or trying to prove anything. They just seemed happy. Everyone looked like they were having a great time. It felt like a part of my life I didn't think I had ever had. I was more than happy with my life, but I couldn't help picturing myself in third class instead. I wouldn't have any of the things I wanted, but all of the things I needed.

"Is it strange to be envious?" I asked.

Rose glanced at me, then back down at the third class deck. "What, Madeline, of them?"

I caught eyes with a tall man with curly hair. His eyes burned into mine and he took a puff of his cigarette. "Yes, them."

Rose took a breath in and I was ready for her response when she turned around quickly.

I spun around too only to see Cal with a maddening grip on her arm. "An explanation please Rose."

She ripped her arm away. "Don't grab me like that."

"My apologies," he said, very insincere. "Back to brunch now, please." She sighed, walking past him and he looked to her, saying, "behave yourself."

Rose, a look of haven given up, just looked at him and nodded. "I will."

Cal turned to me. His chest was puffed out, compensating for the fact that he had little to no authority when it came to his own fiancée. It looked like he was going to try controlling me next. "I hope you won't pose a problem, Ms Brown."

"And why would you suspect that?" I asked, trying not to sound too offended.

"Your aunt -"

" _My_ aunt is the greatest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing," I said quickly and strongly. He was not going to control me either. "And you'll treat her as such. I hope _that_ won't pose a problem, Mr. Hockley."

He pursed his lips and I found myself disgusted at him. "Of course not."

I nodded firmly. "Great." I smiled widely, very satisfied with myself. I picked up part of my dress, allowing myself to walk swiftly away from him. I glanced over my shoulder quickly just to catch a glance at a life I yearned to know about. That curly-headed man was still staring at me. I gave him a smile and a nod, turning forward again and walking away.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

2

I held my cue in my hand, staring down the deck at the deck shuffleboard laid out in front of me. I hummed, tilting my head.

"Come on now, Madeline, we don't have all day."

I turned to my aunt, giving her a very pointed look. "Have patience, please. I must be accurate."

My aunt Molly shook her head, letting her impatience get the best of her as she sighed loudly. How dramatic. Mr Andrews stood next to her, much more content than she. His tall body and handsome face were relaxed, seeming to enjoy the ocean breeze and warm sun. He was not a competitive man. He was too kind to be. He made for a nice person, but he would lose this game of deck shuffleboard for it.

I lined my cue up to the weighted disc, pushing just the right amount. It slid across the deck smoothly, stopping in the square labelled eight, the second highest score. "Ha!" I smiled widely, turning to my aunt Molly. "Eight." I looked to the man who was keeping track of our scores, making sure that he was writing it down, which he was. "Beat that, you two."

Aunt Molly sauntered passed me, seeming cocky. "Well, watch this, kid." She spent barely anytime preparing, and then she pushed her disc, knocking mine out of it's spot, now replaced with hers. She turned towards me, happy as a pig in mud. "How about that?"

I huffed, not hiding my disappointment. "I let you do that."

Aunt Molly took her place beside me. "I'm sure."

Mr. Andrews walked up to the board. "I do not know how I'm going to best you ladies. You're both very determined."

"That, we are," Aunt Molly admitted.

Mr. Andrews made his shot, the disc slowing at a seven. I wasn't sure if he really was so bad at shuffle, or if he was simply letting us win. Either way, I was okay with winning, whether if was 'fair and square' or not.

The very loud sound of a couple of men laughing caught my attention a couple decks below. I watched as the curly-headed man from a couple nights ago stood next to more poverish-looking men. They seemed to be having a grand time. And then they separated, and the curly-headed man leaned over the railing, pulling a cigarette from his jacket.

I walked towards the board, spotting the gap between the railing and the floor. All I had to do was push really hard. So I turned towards the board and pretended to survey what was in front of me. "Yes, well, my components, watch this!" I pushed much too hard on the disc and at such an angle that it conveniently slid under the and off the deck. I paused and waited a mere second until I heard the disc thump down on the third class deck.

The man taking our scores immediately reached for a replacement disc.

"Oh my," Mr. Andrews said, surely never seeing a guest do that before.

My aunt chuckled. "Very impressive, kid."

I turned towards the man handing me the new disc and I shook my head. "Nonsense. I'm at fault here. I will retrieve the disc." Before anyone could protest, I jogged toward the stairs, picking up my dress as I raced down the stairs. I went lower and lower until my most expensive shoes touched down on the third class deck.

The flooring was nothing to brag about, as it did not shine and creaked under my feet. It was the exact same structure as the first class deck, just less luxury and pretty things to look at. It drained my mood just being on the deck. But it felt nice to be closer to the ocean.

I spotted the curly-headed man leaning over the railing. First thing; he was tall. Second thing; he was handsome. Third thing; he was confused. I put on the most charming southern smile I had as I walked closer to him. "It's a shuffleboard disc."

He turned to me, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. He held the disc firmly in his big hands as he flipped it around, a thick Irish accent coming through when he said, "I know what it is, love."

I laughed. "My apologies." I walked closer, observing his light eyes and that hat on top of his head that could never contain the brown curls coming from his head. His hair looked soft and inviting, much like his face. The facial hair he had growing was just short and managed but not groomed properly. Still, he was more handsome than any other man I could ever recall meeting. I needed to know his name. "My apologies, Mr..."

"Tommy Ryan," he said quickly, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and sticking his hand out.

I slid my hand into his, the back of my hand facing up, preparing for the proper introduction. "Madeline Brown."

He just twisted my hand and shook it roughly. "Nice to meet ya."

I rubbed my wrist, still recovering from the harsh handshake. "I hope the disc didn't injure anyone. They can be quite harmful."

Tommy looked down at the disk. "Nearly took my head off." He looked down at me, eyes scanning over my face so quick that if I had blinked I would've missed it. "You should be more careful."

I took the disk from his hands carefully, still smiling. "Will do, Mr. Ryan."

He smiled. He was gorgeous. "Tommy's fine, love."

I took a step back, watching the sun shine behind him. He had me mesmerized. "And that's Madeline to you."

"My apologies," he said in his deep, rough voice. He was still smiling as I backed away. "Madeline."

"Don't be surprised if you see me coming back," I told him. "For the disc, I mean."

He put his cigarette between his lips. "See you soon then, Madeline."

I gave him one last look - flirtatiously. I turned around, walking towards the stairs, feeling warm inside. I noticed my body finally relax. Talking to Tommy Ryan got me all worked up and I hadn't even noticed. When he looked at me, I just couldn't help to get excited. I wanted to know him better. I wanted to see him again, but my mother said a desperate woman is a single woman. Quite contradictory to her desperation to find me a husband.

Either way, I would listen to her advice. I wouldn't pine after a man I just met - or any man for that matter. Even if Tommy Ryan was alluring in every sense and the pull from me to him was strong, I would keep my distance and let it work out itself.

But if it didn't work itself out in the next day or two, I didn't mind breaking the rules.

* * *

The dining room was of the utmost elegance. It was clean and classic and white everywhere. The intricate detailing of the ceiling above me was a wonderful white, as were the arches and the pillars and that walls. The servers were dressed in all white, the tablecloths were white. It was all very pristine.

I sat at a big, white table, with my aunt Molly on one side of me, and another moustache-having man on the other. Mr. Andrews was across from me. Rose and her mother and Cal were a couple of seats down.

My conversations spread across the entire table, though the ones I most enjoyed surrounded me quite closely. My aunt Madeline and Mr. Andrews and I were having quite the conversation about our shuffleboard game earlier today when Rose suddenly stood, spinning around and walking away.

You could see it on her face - when she was sitting there and whens she stood up and stormed off; that she didn't care about a single thing anyone was saying. She looked deep into her own mind, not paying any attention to the world surrounding her. Then again, maybe she didn't want to.

The whole table fell silent. A second or two later I stood. "Excuse me." I slowly made my way away from the table, heading towards the doors of the dining room.

"Excuse me, miss." A server stopped me, looking confused. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I just need some fresh air." I smiled, walking out of the dining room and out onto the deck. The air was much colder at nighttime. I held my arms around myself, feeling my self shiver lightly, as I was not dressed to be outside.

I looked around, seeing that far ahead of me Rose was running, pushing past anyone and everyone to get to god knows where. I sighed, not feeling up to running. I walked quickly, trailing her. I lost sight of her somewhere in between bumping into a couple on a stroll and almost tripping over myself.

"Rose?" I called out, walking around the first class deck another two times. It was only the same people doing the same things. I was throwing myself through a loop. She wasn't on the first class deck.

I moved down to the second class deck, asking a couple of people if they had seen a frantic, pretty, redhead around in the last fifteen minutes. No one said much of anything, usually ending in a harsh 'no'. I took a couple loops around the second deck before heading down to the third class deck.

In the dark, there was less beauty in the water. It was now just a dark abyss, so that now all I could focus on was the crushing sound of the rushing water below. It sounded terrifying.

I leaned away from the railing, tightening my arms around myself. As I turned around, my eyes stuck on the water below, I bumped into a tall body. "Oh!"

His big and strong hands attached themselves to my small shoulders, steadying me. And then he smiled down at me. "Back already? I'm afraid I don't have another disc for ya, love."

I looked up at his beard and then his nose and then his eyes. My eyes locked onto his and I felt myself smiling. "Tommy Ryan." I took a breath, composing myself. "I didn't loose my disc this time. I've lost a friend."

One of his eyebrows rose above the other. "Which friend of yours would come down to the third class deck, huh?"

My smile turned to something of a smirk. "Are you implying that I'm being dishonest, Tommy?"

At the sound of me saying his name, his smile widened. "Nonsense. I wouldn't do such a thing." His hands fell from my shoulders as he took one small step away from me. "Lost a friend, huh? Who are we lookin' for?"

"Do I look in need of assistance?"

He subtly looked me up and down. "You seem capable. But I have good eyes."

I walked past him, picking my skirt up to ensure that I didn't embarrass myself by tripping over my dress - something I was exceptionally good at doing. "That, you do." I suddenly didn't feel as cold, his tall body blocking the cold air from hitting me. "What else can you brag about?"

"Where do I start?" His voice was rough and his steps were loud, somehow making more attractive. You would never find a man like him atop. Maybe that was why he intrigued me so. "I'm fantastic at poker."

I laughed. "Is that all?"

"And arm wrestlin'." He blew smoke from his mouth, then looked to me. "Wanna go?"

My brows furrowed. Where could we possibly go? "Go where?"

He laughed loudly - a wonderful sound. "I meant, do you want to arm wrestle with me, Maddy?"

I didn't remember giving him permission to shorten my name to his liking, but it didn't matter. I liked it. I liked hearing his own version of my name come out of his mouth so much that I didn't care to mention his informality.

I held my head high. "A lady does not arm wrestle."

"And a lady doesn't come down to the third class deck, yet here you are." Tommy stopped in front of me, blocking my path forward. He looked confused, very much like the first time I saw him. He seemed to be thinking deep in his head, which made me think he was unaware of just how close he was to me. "What're you doin' down here, love? Why not let her find her way on her own? Why come down to this grimy deck to find her?"

I took the tiniest of steps back, just so I had room to breathe and respond. "Believe it or not, Tommy Ryan, I don't find the third class deck grimy. I find it interesting - a change of scenery, if you will."

Again, he came closer. "And how many of your people share those thoughts?"

"Likely just the friend that decided to hide out on your deck," I answered, feeling his breath of my face. He smelt of cigarettes all over, especially his breath. It was all I could smell as he came even closer. I didn't mean to, but my hand flew up to his chest to ensure there was a decent amount of distance between us. My hand on his hard chest made my breath catch in my throat and I suddenly didn't mind the nearly nonexistent space between us. I looked up at him. "I -"

There was a scream. And then another. The cold air was filled with a panicked girl screaming and a panicked man yelling. Rose, I assumed.

"Where -"

Tommy grabbed my hand, tugging me forward. "The back of the ship."

We started running, him much faster than I. It was only a matter of seconds before I tripped over my dress, and that I did. My face bounced off the hard floor and I groaned quietly. Tommy picked me up quickly, like I weighed nothing to him. He touched my forehead, his fingertip causing a great deal of pain.

"Ow!"

He let his hand fall. "You've got a nasty cut there, love."

I touched my forehead, pulling away to find blood. I huffed, feeling annoyed at myself to let that happen. "My goodness, I -"

He cupped my face, angling my head towards a dim, hanging light next to us. "Shouldn't be so bad. Just give it a good clean and you'll be -"

Another loud scream. "Help, please!" Rose sounded in great distress. She sounded scared. It was the kind of scream that wrapped around your bones and made you stiff and cold. "Help! Please! Please, help me!"

I ran past him, making sure to hold my dress up this time around. I ran and I ran until the screams seemed louder and closer. When I made my way up a very small flight of stairs to reach the very back deck, a couple of guards were running ahead of me, yelling at a man standing beside Rose.

I rushed towards Rose. Her hair was big and messy and her face was red, very contrast again her cold and pale skin. I helped her up, then seeing her face, covered in tears. "Rose, by heavens, are you all right?"

She just shook violently, trying to form a sentence but couldn't.

"Fetch the master of arms!" One of the guards said.

I wrapped an arm around Rose. "Let's get out of the cold, ok?" She nodded and I led her not inside, just under a sheltered roof with walls - someplace to block out the wind. I asked for a blanket, which was given to me in a matter of seconds. I wrapped it around her tight, rubbing her arms hastily. "Warming up?"

She barely nodded.

In a matter of minutes, the blonde-haired, baby-faced man was being cuffed and my oh so favourite person Cal was marching up to us. "What happened?"

I stood straight in front of him. "Your concerns should be placed elsewhere." I gestured to Rose, who looked small and scared wrapped up in her blanket.

Cal pushed past me, inspecting every inch of his fiancee. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Why are you here? Never mind. What happened?"

I looked at the blonde-haired man. He was small in stature and skinny. He didn't looked malnourished, he just seemed small all over naturally. His hair looked soft, although he could've used a good haircut, as it seemed in his face. His face - it seemed kind. I couldn't picture his looming over Rose, with the intent to do something bad, though that was the picture that was painted right now.

Cal didn't wait for my response as he delve into a world of madness. "This is completely unacceptable!" he yelled. He marched over to the man. "What made you think that you could put yours hands on _my_ fiancee?" He didn't give him time to respond. He grabbed the front of his shirt. "Look at me, you filth!"

"Cal," Rose warned.

Cal shook the man again. "What do you think that you were doing?"

Rose got up quickly, running over to the two men. She placed a hand on Cal. "Cal, stop." She pulled him away. "It was an accident."

Cal stared at her in disbelief, much like myself. "An accident?"

"It was," she defended. Rose had the smallest of smiles on her face as she chuckled, seeming embarrassed. "Stupid, really. I was leaning over and I slipped." She paused, giving everyone just enough time to stare at her in confusion. "I was leaning far over to see the...uh, uh, uh, the uh, uh -" She motioned with her hands.

Cal leaned in close. "Propellors?"

"Propellors! And I slipped." She said it so simply, as if she wasn't so shaken up just moments ago. "And I would've gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson here saved me and almost went over himself!"

It sounded true, the way Rose was telling the story, but the dishonesty in her eyes, as well as the look on Jack Dawson's face made me wonder what else there was to be told. Just as such, it was none of my business. And I was all but too pleased that Rose was standing safely on the deck rather than somewhere in the deep, dark waters below.

Cal looked at Rose as if she was a child. "You wanted to see the -" He looked away from her, painting a smile on his unfriendly face, and turned to everyone else. "She wanted to see the propellors." Cal tried his hardest to laugh.

A man standing nearby - head of security I presumed - started up. "Like I said; women and machinery do not mix."

The man holding innocent Jack Dawson turned him around roughly, looking at him with intimidation. "Was that the way of it?"

Jack turned to Rose, looking at her and her only. "Yeah," he said simply. "Yeah, that was pretty much it." Nonchalant and carefree. He, like Rose, seemed all of the sudden unbothered by the events that preceded.

The same man with the so wise advice about women and machinery spoke up once again and I found myself tempted to roll my eyes. "Well, the boy's a hero then!" The first thing I had ever enjoyed hearing coming out of that mans mouth. "Good for you, son. Well done. So it's all's well and back to our brandy, eh?"

The handcuffs unshackled and I walked closer to Jack Dawson, sticking out my hand. That time I stuck it out vertical and I locked my wrist firm in preparation for the handshake I knew I would be getting. "Madeline Brown."

He shook it with a certain gentleness. His long fingers wrapped around my hand. The delicateness was only something I had ever known in a true artist. "Jack Dawson."

"Maybe a little something for the boy?" I heard to my left. Cal and Rose were walking away, without so much as a thanks.

"Of course." Cal stopped and turned to Mr. Lovejoy. "Mr. Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it."

Rose chuckled a humourless chuckled. She was unimpressed, as she always was. "Is that the going rate for saving someone you love."

I pressed my lips against each other, feeling the laugh come up my throat. Though it did not escape, I rose an eyebrow at Cal when his eyes met mine and I couldn't help but smile at the slightly embarrassed look on his face.

"Rose is displeased." He turned back to her, pursing his lips. "What to do?"

Something out of the ordinary - out of the box. Something that was meaningful and time-consuming and a dream come true.

Cal walked over to Jack Dawson, a neutral look on his face, heavy in his steps. All the men moved with him, like magnets. "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening...to regale our group...with your heroic tale."

That would do it.

In true fashion of Jack Dawson's lack of polite social skills, he responded with, "Sure. Count me in."

"Good." Cal seemed satisfied with himself. Most likely because he knew Jack Dawson would be embarrassed to show up amongst so many established people. What would he wear? How would he act? After all, you cannot bring a knife to a gun fight. "It's settled then."

Again, like magnets, all the men walked away, to wherever the fastest way to get to first class was.

I turned to Jack Dawson, wanting to ask him the very question since I shook his hand. "Do you like to draw? Paint? Anything of the such?

Jack was hard to read. I couldn't tell if he thought I was prying or genuinely interested. It was the ladder, though he didn't seem to know it. "Draw."

I nodded, offering the kindest smile I could muster. That was the one facial expression that came naturally. It was one I never had to fight to put on. "You have an artist's hand, Mr. Dawson. I'm inclined to bother you one sunny afternoon for a portrait."

His brows furrowed. "But you haven't even seen my work -"

"Is that a no, then?"

"No -" He shook his head. "I mean yes." He nodded then, his floppy hair finding its place when his head stopped moving. "I can draw you."

I sighed happily, starting to step away. I did really want a portrait, just the sea and I, but Jack Dawson also intrigued me. Speaking of people who intrigued me. "Oh, Mr. Dawson?"

"Jack is just fine." He seemed less stiff. He even smiled a slight bit.

"Jack," I corrected. "I've seen you speaking to a certain curly-headed Irishman by the name -"

"Tommy Ryan?"

I smiled widely suddenly and uncontrollably. "That is the one. Would you please give him my thanks for tonight. His ears and eyes were much beneficial to me."

Jack nodded, turning his lanky-like body to the side, hands sliding into his pockets as he leaned against the wall. He seemed comfortable there. "Sure."

"Thank you." I nodded, picking up a hefty sum of the dress, making sure to actually lift it off the ground this time around. "I'll be seeing you at dinner tomorrow night then, Jack."

He nodded. "Tomorrow night."


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

3

I stood close by, arms crossed over myself, waiting quite patiently for the arrival of the man with the hands of an artist. The man who surely did not have a watch or else he would've be standing at the top of the stairs twenty minutes ago instead of twenty minutes late.

I walked towards the stairs, watching his bounce on step after step, skipping one or two. The gate attendee held out his hand to stop him, but I put my hand on his arm, pulling it downwards. "It's all right," I told him, turning to Jack. "He can come on up as long as he apologizes."

"Apologizes?" Jack smiled brightly, eyes gleaming. He had so much life inside of him, it was mad. "For what?"

"For letting my stand here for twenty five minutes, waiting for you!"

"Listen to the lungs on this one."

I scoffed, peering around Jack at Tommy Ryan, who was at the bottom of the stairs, but made no effort to be quiet with his remark. "That's quite the statement coming for you."

He looked me in the eyes, challenging me. That wasn't fair. I was always the challenger, not the challenge-ee. "How's that, love?"

"I can hear your bolstering laugh from all the way up here, Tommy Ryan. Everyone on first class can."

His eyes narrowed my way, as if he was angered, but the smile on his lips told a different story. He turned away slightly and Jack came back into my view and he said, "Look, I'm here now and I'm ready." He held out a big, leather book, the width of his torso and the length of his arm from wrist to shoulder.

I breathed deeply, stepping aside to allow a free path. "Come, then. The day would go a waste." Jack jogged past me, looking pleased to step foot on the first class deck. I turned to Tommy. "Well, come along."

He waved me off. "I don't need to be your charity case, Maddy."

I laughed. "On the contrary, I will be yours, as I will be forced to listen to your loud voice." I watched him chuckle at that and then I held out my hand as the gate attendee opened it once again. "Come."

He looked suspiciously at my hand as if it was dangerous to him, and then he slowly and cautiously made his way up the steps. His big, rough hand slid into mine and he walked past me, his tired and worn shoes scraping agains the nice wood. His hand slide from mine as one disappeared in his pocket and the other reached for a cigarette. "Not bad."

"Not bad indeed," Jack said, holding his arms out. "Well, where's the best spot on the deck?"

Feeling the heat lie directly on my skin, I gestured around. "The sun is shining upon us now. Is this not the best?"

Jack shook his head, looking around. His eager eyes scanned the whole boat, and then he started to walk. His dull brown outfit clashed against all the black suits walking around. Tommy and I followed behind, walking at a relaxed pace instead.

"Did Jack pass along my thanks from last night?"

"He did." Tommy glanced at me, then turned to the sun once again. It shone the half of his face I could see. His dark eyes looked lighter and brighter, as did his entire gloomy-looking face. He looked almost solemn, but somehow not. That seemed to be his permanent state. "And now he's gets to dine with you and the rest of the heavy-pocketed richies?"

I found myself laughing and shaking my head. "Why such a hatred, Tommy? It doesn't really fit in with your charm."

"Don't you see what you have?" He gestured around at everything. It didn't look like much to me, but the way Tommy's eyes were scanning - it was like he was gathering it all and taking it all it, as if he would never see a sight like this again. "No one seems to notice what they have up here." He glanced at nicely dressed couple walking by. "Not a single person looks...happy."

"Ah, but you're wrong." I stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. I smiled up at him, hands folded neatly behind my back. His hair was contained under his hat, which I found boring and unnecessary. I reached up and pulled it off his head, letting it hover over my own head, careful to not let it touch the well put together strands. "Don't I look jolly as ever?" I took a minute to pose, looking off into the distance, other hand on hip. I waited a second for him to say something, and when he didn't, I looked back to see him staring at me with a pleased face. "It's rude to stare." I pressed his hat into his chest, not waiting for him to grab it before letting go and walking away.

Tommy caught the hat just barely, quickening his pace to match with me once again. "Has anyone told you you're quite endearing?"

"Many times."

"This is it!" Jack stopped, pointing to the railing. The sun was across the way now, leaving the dim glow to wash over the whole area. Jack sat down on the bench and gestured to the railing. "Go and stand."

I raised my eyebrow. "Excuse me."

Jack nodded slightly. "Please."

Satisfied, I stood by the railing. "What do I do?"

"Just stand in whatever is natural. Try your best to keep still." And just like that, he flipped open his leather book and took the pencil out from his ear - one I had mistaken for a cigarette.

I leaned against the railing, arms crossing over my chest lazily, connecting more so at my stomach. I looked down the deck at the busier part and I hoped that too many people wouldn't come this way and distract Jack.

Tommy leaned against the railing, putting himself directly in my view.

I gave him a wildly unimpressed look. "You're right in my way."

"Hey, you don't own this railing," Tommy said, smiling to himself. "Anyone can lean on it."

I sighed, trying to look past his curly head of hair. Suddenly, I wished he was once again wearing his hat. He looked too interesting - to exquisite that I couldn't keep my eyes off of Tommy Ryan. I needed to distract myself. "Jack -" I started, staying a still as I could. "What was your business in Paris? Art-related?"

"I was trying to sell my drawings," he said, leaving small, distracted spaces in between the words. "No one was interested. I did some drawings for ten cents a piece, but that didn't seem too interestin' to many people either."

I hummed. "Well, you didn't grow up in Paris," I said with confidence. I knew he didn't. Why should I have been ashamed to say so? "What came before the life of a struggling artist?"

Jack laughed. "The life of a struggling a fisherman in Monteray and Santa Monica, and a little bit of Italy, but I grew up in Wisconsin."

I was impressed. "I'm impressed. A well-travelled man. Your parents didn't care for your adventures?"

"Not much. They're dead." He didn't sound sad, but how could you not be?

"My apologies."

"No apologies," Jack said to me. "Chin up a little." I followed his instructions as he continued to speak. "I met Fabrizio in Italy years ago. He's with me every where I go. I don't need anyone else."

"And yourself and this Fabrizio decided to board the Titanic for, what, another lively adventure?" I stopped looking past Tommy, my eyes meeting with his. I bit my lips to hold in the smile as I breathed and focused on keeping my expression.

"Lucky game of poker. It was meant to be."

"Meant to be?" I chuckled. "Just as I thought, Jack Dawson. You're an artist _and_ a dreamer. A devastating combination."

"Dreams are allowed."

"Allowed, yes. Encouraged, no."

"Really?" Tommy said, seeming quite taken back. "I pictured you as someone who's head would be filled with nonsense."

My gaze fell upon him harshly. "Oh? I was in Paris for family. What were you in Paris for, Mr. Ryan?"

He took another puff of his cigarette - one that seemed to last for eternity. He then flicked it over the side of the boat and leaned against the railing very lazily. "Work. What else?"

I watched him carefully. "I think you are a dreamer, as well. Maybe you're not so quick to spill every dream that comes to mind, but I think you do dream, Tommy Ryan. Even if it's of bigger and better job opportunities. You did take a risk after all, coming all this way, did you not?"

"Well, you've cornered me." He turned around, folding his arms over his wide chest and crossing his feet. "You're absolutely right, miss Brown, this so called _ship of dreams_ inspired me to make something of myself -" He was talking gregariously, loud and passionate. He was mocking me. "And oh how I have done so!"

"That's quite enough out of you," I said quickly, huffing to myself and shaking my head. "My goodness, how can any soul on the third class deck put up with you?"

"Stop fighting." Jack was laughing at us, pointing his pencil at the both of us. "It's too hard to sketch you both like that."

"Both?" I lost my pose, turning to Jack. "May I remind you, this is a portrait!"

Jack simply shrugged, pencil moving against the paper smoothly. He looked up from the paper in brief moments. "I couldn't help it. I just started drawing the two of you. It's an interesting dynamic, really. Look." He quickly put the pencil in his mouth, using his hands to turn the leather book around to me.

I walked towards him, looking down at the rectangular piece of parchment, covered in grey lines that strung together in a soft perfection that pleased me. From the torso up, you could see me. I was standing against the railing, looking quite bothered, arms crossed. The eyes drawn on my face were looking to the left, to another character on the page. Tommy was leaning against the railing, too, looking significantly less stiff. He was smiling. His hair looked exactly on the page as it did in real life.

"That's quite good, boyo." Tommy nodded, satisfied enough with the drawing of himself. He looked to me. "Well, Maddy, what'd ya think?"

I smiled widely, reaching out and taking the paper, bringing it closer to my eyes, seeing every little stroke. It was absolutely incredible. I looked so real and raw, much like Tommy did on the page and real life. For once, we looked similar. "It's wonderful. Oh, Jack, it's beautiful." I sat down next to him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

"Let me wrap it for you," Jack said, taking the drawing and putting it between two hard squares of just barely bigger than the page. He handed it back to me just as I slid a twenty dollar bill into his hand. He spread the bill between his fingers and shook his head. "I can't -"

"Oh, hush," I told him, standing up. I tucked the drawing underneath my arm. "That's the going rate for the artists brought on to the ship. I would pay no less."

"Don't I get any compensation?"

I turned to Tommy, a smile spreading over my face. Why could I not hold it in - the smiling? I must've looked insane, looking so happy all the time. I couldn't help the urge. It came to me every time I looked at him. The urge to kiss his scruffy cheek was another urge I could not resist. Taking a couple steps forward, I pushed on the tips of my toes to press my lips to his cheek quickly. "That'll do." I walked around him quickly, glad that I was facing away from him for I was blushing far too hard.

"I'll see you tonight at dinner!"

I raised my hand above my head, giving a wave, not looking back.

Suddenly, a bright redhead appeared in front of me, blocking my path. Rose smiled politely, nodding her head to me and then looking over her shoulder. "You requested an audience with Jack?"

"I requested a drawing," I told her, gesturing to the drawing under my arm. The blush had faded enough for me to look over my shoulder. Tommy was gone, but Jack was still there, looking at us, no less. "But we're finished now. He's all yours."

Rose's eyes widened slightly, and she said, almost bashfully, "Oh, no, I -"

My loud laughter cut her off. I took a couple of steps, moving to her side and putting a hand on her shoulder. "If there were a better time to thank him than now, be my guest, Rose." I watched her eyes look longingly at Jack. "But now seems quite right, doesn't it?" I patted her shoulder, continuing to walk down the deck. I walked along the deck until I reached the corner. I looked back for a brief moment to see the pair walking together.

They really matched quite well. Much better than Cal and herself. Rose didn't seem to be very fond of Cal, and yet, she wore a beautiful ring on her finger that symbolized their commitment and love for one another - two things Rose didn't seem to possess for him.

Watching Rose walk with Jack - maybe it was appropriate to call it the Ship of Dreams after all.

* * *

I wanted to put the beautiful portrait upon the wall as soon as possible. I spent far too much time finding the perfect space and the perfect height and the perfect spot all around our cabin. I knew it would only be up for the rest of the trip, only to be packed up again, but I needed to be able to see it.

Next to my bed was were I settled it, hanging high enough to be nearly eye to eye with it when I stood - the perfect sight to wake up to. After that, I had laid down on my bed with a heavy sigh, letting the exhaustion wash over me. I hadn't intended on an afternoon nap, but what was I to do?

I woke up hours later, to two people talking outside of my room, right near wear Aunt Molly and I dressed.

I suddenly wondered what I would dress for tonight.

I walked out of the door, finding my Aunt Molly and Jack Dawson. She was standing behind him, looking at him through the mirrors splayed out a couple feet from there. Jack had a firm grip on the immaculate suit that was owned by Molly's son, my cousin, Lawrence. He would not let go.

"It's not going to fly off," I said, making my aunt glance briefly at me.

Jack only stared at himself - not in a vapid way, but in an astonished way. I realized then that Jack had likely never worn a suit so fancy and expensive in his entire life. He instantly looked older and quite a bit more handsome. It fit him almost like a glove, just needing a couple of spots to be filled out by the big meals Lawrence had for dinner every night.

"Doesn't he look handsome?" Aunt Molly laughed, patting Jack's shoulders lightly.'

"The most," I said, finally catching Jack's gaze. "How do you feel?"

Jack managed a half-smile. Charming. "A little silly, to be honest."

I walked over to him and stood in front of him, looking everything over to ensure that it was perfect. "Better silly than underdressed." I flattened out the last bit of his suit, smiling up at him. "I cannot believe my aunt has convinced you into one of these."

I pictured Tommy in one. He would not be smiling the way Jack was.

Molly clapped suddenly and loudly. "Already now, we've got to get all dolled up. I'm nearly ready to go, but Madeline here -"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I fell asleep. I could not keep my eyes open any longer!"

Jack stepped away from us, heading towards the door. "Thank you, Molly."

"Not a worry."

Seeing Jack in that suit and thinking of Tommy in his place, it got me wondering - what if that were to happen to me? I meant, what if I had married a...poor man? Would he have to dress up and change everything or would I?

Jack nodded, opening the door and sliding out. The door closed and my aunt Molly sat down at her vanity just as I sat down at mine. I watched her through her mirror, her heavy hands putting on far too much powder. She knew she was doing it, and she still did not care. It baffled me and inspired me, to be so knowledgeably ignorant.

"What do you want, kiddo?"

I quickly shifted my gaze to myself in the mirror. "Why do you say such a thing?"

"Cause you're starin' at me."

I sighed, turning around on my short stool, swinging around my dress with it. My shoulders slumped as I watched her continue on with her makeup. "Aunt Molly, there's something that has been on my mind for far too long and I can't hold it in anymore."

"I knew you've been acting strangely." She laughed, her whole body shaking in her chair. "I'm surprised you've kept it held in this long."

"I will disregard that comment," I said, narrowing my eyes for a small second before sitting up straight and waiting for her as she turned completely around. As soon as she was facing me, I said, "What if I _were_ to find a husband that I could make a home with? What if that time was quite soon?"

I wasn't saying Tommy, but thinking about him got me thinking about different kinds of futures I had never pictured before. There had only been one or two paths laid out. Marry and rich man and build a life together. The two paths were 'would he be rich?' or 'would he be very rich?'. But what if he were not rich at all?

"Then your mother would be the happiest lady that ever lived," Aunt Molly said simply, brows furrowing. "Why?"

"Well -" I took a deep breath, feeling all the thoughts of a _poor_ life flood in at once. "What if the man I were to choose was - I mean, what if he had...limited means?" I swallowed my pride finally and said, "What if he was a poor man?"

Aunt Molly immediately laughed. "I like a big, scruffy man as much as the next gal, Madeline, but there's no life to be lived there." She had no mean words about third class, but she knew that harshest of realities that came with that life and she was never going to sugarcoat it for me. "You'd be bidding adieu to everything you know. It would change everything." She started to turn back to her mirror. "Why do you ask?"

I looked down into my lap, folding my hands together. "There's a man who's staying on the third class deck that I'm afraid has..."

"Oh boy," Aunt Molly started up. Her hands moved to her hair, adjusting the hat that sat on quite the angle on her head. "You've got eyes for each other, is that it?"

"Something of that." I started to smile.

She shook her head, sighing heavily. "Your mother is gonna think I put you up to this."

I laughed, turning back to my own mirror. I pushed my curled hair back behind my shoulders and started in on wrapping it upwards. "And I will inform her that you did not put a single thought in my head. I came up with this one all on my own."

"Child, you are asking for it."

I shrugged, feeling the worry leave me ever so slowly. "Maybe I am. I'm not saying this is the man of my life. What I'm saying is that, as long as we're on the ship of dreams, I will dream as I please."

"Is that so?" She was now smiling. She knew I gave my mother trouble. She knew I gave everyone trouble, and she knew I didn't do it on purpose, but she always seemed amused with me.

"And if my dreams happen to take me somewhere tonight..." I looked at her through my mirror and hers. "I'll be back at a decent enough time."

Both of us turned back to our mirrors, fixing up the last of our appearances and both trying to hide the mischievous smiles on our faces.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

4

The stairs were english oak, and done to perfection. Starting out wider and extending wider, there was a thick and luxurious railing splitting the staircase right down the middle, which was exactly what I was clutching to so that I could look around without loosing my footing.

The dome over indented into the ceiling was bright and beautiful and held a massive and intricate chandelier. There floor up was exposed to us. I could see all the other people coming to dinner, dressed to their fancy, looking happy to soon have delicious food in their belly.

Before I knew it, my shoe hit the marble floor below and everything closed off, making the elegant music louder. The ceiling became lower and the area became a very light gold and white. The ceiling had nearly the same design as my bedroom ceiling. It was beautiful, like much of the other parts of the ship.

"Stop dilly dallying, child!"

I laughed, my arm looping through my Aunt's. "I am appreciating the craftsmanship." I sighed, taking one last glance around before focusing on looking for our table. "Now...where to go?"

The dining saloon was big in size and open in space and people were piling in a slow rate but in dense quantities. Most people were already seated. Due to the nap, I had managed to make the both of us a couple minutes too late.

After finding our beautiful, oval, and nearly full table, I sat down in between my Aunt and Mr. Andrews, immediately sparking up a conversation about his design for the Titanic's grand staircase and dining hall. The conversation ended with us laughing and my my hand giving his arm a small squeeze. As he turned to his other side, I leaned slightly over the table and looked over my aunt to the person beside her.

"Did you make as many introductions as possible, Mr. Dawson?"

He smiled a wicked and handsome smile. "As many as I could."

I laughed quietly. "And what did you say?"

"I didn't say much. I didn't correct much."

In that suit, he was blending right in to every other boring man aboard. He looked so young - new money, maybe. Everyone who had been graced with his presence likely made heavy assumptions as heir to...business, railroad - whatever they could come up with. He was blending in quite well, as long as he didn't open his mouth. I had seen him and Rose talking, but the conversation never extended outside the two of them until Rose's snake of a mother made sure that everyone at the table knew exactly where Jack Dawson came from.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson," she said. "I hear they're quite good on this ship."

Nosy and rude. Strange how Rose was such an opposite, with such an open mind and heart to the world outside of first class. Her mother had likely never given the third class life thought until that very moment.

"The best I've seen ma'am." So polite. So poised. "Hardly any rats."

Laughter coursed through our table with the exception of a few people, who remained cold and unmoved.

I knew the unsaid goal of some people here - Cal and Mrs. Dawson - was to display how unfit Jack was to be here with the rest of us. I also knew the other unsaid goal was for Jack to prove them wrong.

Regardless, if it wasn't obvious enough from that, Cal had to say, "Mr. Dawson is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancée last night."

Rose leaned forward. "It turns out Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist." A few raised eyebrows. "He was kind enough to show me some of his work today."

I nodded, taking some of the appetizers from the silver tray coming over my shoulder. I gave a quick smile to the waiter and then said, "I insisted on a drawing from this morning. It was wonderful piece. Went straight onto the wall."

More raised eyebrows and nods of approvement.

"We differ somewhat in definition of fine art." Cal looked to Jack, as if he didn't realize how insulting that might seem. "Not to impugn your work, sir."

Jack seemed genuinely un-offended, waving his hand and shaking his head in the most ungraceful and endearing manner, to which Rose coughed subtly to everyone else, but I was looking. She held her napkin up to shield whatever she was trying to communicate to Jack. Jack then immediately grabbed his napkin and laid it over his lap. He looked down at his plate, scanning the many utensils. He leaned in to say in a hushed voice to my Aunt, "Are these all for me?"

"Just start from the outside and work your way in," she whispered back.

I leaned in too, "You won't make a fool, I promise."

My Aunt very quickly turned to me. "What did I say about eavesdroppin'?"

I leaned back in my chair, pretending not to have heard her. I put myself back into the conversation happening across the table - from Mr. Ismay to Mr. Andrews.

"He knows every rivet in her, don't you, Thomas?"

Rose looked to Mr. Andrews. "Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews, truly."

He took every compliment right to heart, never passing one off even though he had likely heard a million over the course of the trip so far. "Thank you, Rose." And that was it. He did not brag, he did not boast.

I leaned closer to Mr. Andrews with a quiet voice. "You must do yourself some good and brag to everyone just a slight bit, Mr. Andrews."

"I have no need. Mr. Ismay does all of that for me."

I glanced at Ismay and his disgusting moustache. "And what a shame that is. When he speaks of the ship, it's only about the money and the power. There's no passion, unlike yourself." I looked at him, grey hair slicked back to near perfection. "It's not the same."

He smiled the kindest smile I had ever seen. "While I appreciate your concern, Miss Brown, I do not need everyone to know that it was I who designed the ship. So long as they are enjoying themselves, what matter is it of who made it? Isn't it enough to merely _enjoy_?"

I liked that. I smiled at him. "I suppose."

Dinner went along, conversations starting and ending and moving around the table smoothly until the caviar.

The waiter leaned over the plate. "How do you take your caviar, sir?"

Jack shook his head. "No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much."

Mrs. Dawson saw that as an opening to spark a conversation she was surely just dying to have. "And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?"

"Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humour." He had such a calm and level tone. An air of fun around him that wasn't around anyone else.

"And how is it you have means to travel?" Mrs. Dawson asked tightly.

"I work my way from place to place, you know, tramp steamers and such." Jack reached up and scratched his nose in the most humorous unmannered way, causing my bit back a smile. "But I won my ticket at Titanic here at a lucky game of poker. A very lucky hand."

Jack had everyone's attention when he spoke. And what he said seemed to really resinate with Mr. Archibald Gracie. He spoke over his thick, white moustache. "All life is a game of luck!"

Cal hummed, swallowing his drink quickly to say. "A real man makes his own luck. Right, Dawson?"

Jack nodded and hummed in agreement. Not what Cal had hoped.

Mrs. Dawson tried her hand next, hoping to get a wild reaction out of the poor man. "And you find that kind of rootless appealing to you?"

Every head turned to Jack, awaiting a response.

Jack seemed to consider a moment and then he looked the snake right in the eyes. "Well, yes, ma'am, I do. I mean, I've got everything I need right here with me." He was so unbothered. So genuine, it was shocking. "I've got air in my lungs and a few blank sheets of paper." He casually grabbed a dinner roll, holding it up to his mouth. "I mean, I love waking up in the morning, not knowing what's gonna happen -" He took a small bite, speaking again. "Who I'm gonna meet or where I'm gonna wind up." He took a second to chew. "Just the other night I was sleepin' under a bridge and now here I am -" He picked up his expensive glass. "On the grandest ship in the world havin' champagne with you fine people."

The table was amused. They laughed. After they laughed, they continued to smile, waiting for Jack to keep speaking. He had them mesmerized.

"I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it." He took a sip, glancing at Cal. I glanced at Cal as well, seeing just how unsettled he was as he grabbed a cigarette. "You never know what hand you're gonna get dealt next." Cal struggled to find a light. "You learn to take life as it comes at you. Oh, here you go, Cal." Jack reached into his pocket and threw a box of matches across the table for Cal.

Cal caught them in a recoiled state. He had been played. He knew it. Jack knew it. The whole table knew it.

Jack finished off his wise speech with the wisest words of all. "To make each day count."

My aunt nodded, incredibly satisfied. "Well said, Jack."

Mr. Gracie nodded, loudly saying. "Hear, hear!"

Rose brought her glass of champagne into the air, eyes sparkling at Jack. "To making it count."

I smiled widely, joining in with everyone at the table as we said, "To making it count!"

The dinner went on much better from there. Cal and Mrs. Dawson saw themselves as bested, I presumed. I talked to Jack and my aunt and ate the lovely dinner that was prepared for us.

My aunt told a couple of stories. She told my favourite of my uncle, Mr. Brown, and when he came home drunk as pig only to light his own money on fire in the stove. I liked that one.

As time went on, I became slightly bored and I looked over in just the moment I saw Jack take a pen from my aunt and slide it under the table. I could see the corner of a piece of paper. "Indulging in some scandalous note-writing, are we?" I said as quietly as I could when taking over my Aunt.

Jack kept writing, a brief smile making way to his face. "I've got somewhere to be." He stopped writing, looking me in the eyes. "And I'd like you and Rose to join me. Tommy will be there."

I looked away, suddenly flushed. I adjusting my dress for no particular reason, as it had no need to be fixed. In my moment of pure haze I started to notice all the men standing up.

They were going to the smoking room for a brandy and a nice long chat about just how fantastic they all were. Jack was standing up too, handing back the pen he used to right the note to my Aunt quite discreetly. She tucked in back in her purse quickly.

Mr. Archibald looked at Jack. "Joining us, Dawson?" He laughed, his fat belly moving with him. "Well, you don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?"

Jack didn't laugh, but he smiled politely. "No thanks, I've gotta be heading back."

I saw Cal walking towards Jack and I looked at my Aunt. "Good riddance. I don't think I could stand enough moment of that egotistical -"

Two hands came down on my shoulders, making my heart skip a beat. Jack leaning near my ear, whispering. "Meet us at the clock in five."

Us?

He walked over to Rose

"Jack, must you go?" she asked. He was basically her lifeline.

"Time for me to go row with the other slaves," he joked, earning a laugh from her, which made his cheeks brighten. "Good night, Rose." He stuck out his hand, the piece of paper stuck between his two fingers. When her hand came into his, he leaned down and kissed it, and then he was off.

I watched him walk off briskly, looking back twice at Rose and then racing out of the dining hall. When I looked at Rose, she had the note unfolded. She glanced at me and then tucked it away hastily.

I moved over a couple of chairs. "What'd it say?"

She looked as if she was trying not to smile. "It said 'make it count. Meet me at the clock'."

"Well..." I studied her for a moment, discovering the sure answer before I asked. "What is the verdict?"

She slapped her hand over mine. Her hand was warm and almost clammy, like she was nervous or giddy. She looked at me with a friendly and assuring face. "Only if you're coming."

I pretended to mull over it for a couple of seconds before turning to her. "Where else would I be?"

In a matter of five minutes and a pretend lady emergency, Rose and I were approaching the staircase, where Jack stood at the top, waiting and smiling.

"So you want to go to a real party?"

* * *

It was below third class deck in an area that wasn't even the common area. The whole space was white, with no paint over the industrial, bolted walls. There were pillars of support, but no appreciation for the look of anything. Wooden table and chairs were strewn every where. Two big tables were pushed together, creating a special dance floor for whomever got up there first, I guessed.

The space was packed, creating a hotness in the air and a very peculiar smell. There was a certain smokiness affecting my vision. And the loud music of the Irish jig affecting my hearing.

The whole thing - it was beautiful. Not because of the effort that had gone into the space, because absolutely no effort was apparent. It was beautiful because of how many happy people were filling the ugly space. Every single person had a wide smile on their face. They were dancing, drinking, talking, laughing - whatever it was, they seemed the most happy.

The moment we descended the stairs, Jack grabbed onto the first person he saw - a little girl - and started to dance. Rose and I made ourselves comfortable at a table, sitting across from a Swedish man, who did not speak very clear english.

Rose and her polite enough self was trying to carry a conversation with the man, which consisted mostly of 'what' and 'what did you say'. It was the music. It was the language barrier. It was fun to watch.

Someone sat down beside me, four glasses of beer in his hands, being set down on the table and spilling over, creating a small mess. "Thanks for the help of carrying these. Really appreciate it."

I looked at Tommy. "I never asked for a drink, Tommy."

"Scared, Maddy?" His thick Irish accent sent a chill up my spine, as did his mocking tone.

I wrapped my hand around one of the glasses, tipped the beer to my lips and took a long, hard swig. The beer was so bitter and so unhelpful, but it didn't taste so incedibly bad that I wouldn't drink it.

Rose, beside me, set her beer down, coughing lightly. She raised it to her lips once again, taking small and slow slips.

Unlike Rose, who had been under the watchful eye of her mother her whole life, I had done all I could to ensure that I was being mostly looked after by my Aunt Molly, whose eyes were anything but watchful.

"Is it going' down easy, love?"

"Quite," I told him, feeling the warmth in my face and the tingle in my toes as I swayed in the chair slightly. "I always insisted on joining in on my cousins' competitions. Most were alcohol-related."

"I have to say I'm impressed, but not too much." He gave me a challenging look, starting to take a long sip of his beer.

I did the same, not putting mine down until he put his down. That resulted in both of our beers being finished off and the glasses hitting the table at the same time. I laughed loudly, my hand finding Tommy's leg. "Sweetheart, if you thought you were going to intimidate me, you were very wrong."

He leaned in close, invading the space I had established as mine. He stared into my eyes. In the dim lighting, his eyes looked dark. He looked handsome. And he looked a little bit drunk. "I'm comin' to realize that."

The song ended and most people cheered, including me. Not a second after the song ended, a new one started up.

Jack leaned down to his little lady. "I'm gonna dance with her now." He looked to Rose, holding out his hand. "Come on."

"What?" Rose was shocked and as apprehensive as ever.

He snatched her hand, pulling her off her seat. "Come on!"

They stood up, a foot or two apart. He looked loose and free. She looked stiff and nervous. He put his hand on her lower back, tugging her close. She relaxed a slight bit and then she smiled, causing me to smile.

"What're you so happy about?"

I looked at Tommy. "This!" I held out my hands, gesturing at everything and everyone. "All of this is incredible." I sighed, my head resting in my hands.

Tommy laughed at me - joyously and deeply. "Maybe I shouldn't have challenged ya."

I glanced at Rose and Jack, who were now bouncing and dancing. I grabbed Tommy's hands, standing quickly. "Dance with me!"

He shook his head quickly. He didn't even think about it. "No."

Fabrizio, who I had met ever so briefly, was suddenly standing next to me. "Looking for a dance partner, uh? You chose the wrong guy."

"Then I change my mind." I let go of Tommy's hands, tugging Fabrizio to where everyone else was dancing. "Show me!"

Fabrizio didn't hesitate. He pulled me close, starting to dance wildly. The adrenaline and beer rushed through me as I felt the pull and tug of him and me and the floor and the music. He was spinning and spinning.

I laughed, feeling my grip slip. "Fabri!" He let go, seemingly on purpose, as he made no move to catch me. I spun around, landing the the strong arms of non other than Tommy Ryan. He had lost the cigarette and gained some courage. "Well, hello."

Tommy's big hands found my lower back and own hand. He pulled us against each other, our warm bodies touching. He looked down at me and I looked up at him and he said, "Ready?"

I nodded. "Ready."

He started to dance, starting off slow. I didn't know if it was because he was Irish or because he was a good dancer, but his steps were smooth and fluid. Everything went together. It felt better. He tugged and pulled and pushed, but our chests never stopped touching.

"Why the change of heart?" I asked very loudly, so that he just might hear me over everything.

He smiled widely. "I couldn't stand it if Fabrizio was the one to steal you from me."

I couldn't really tell if he was teasing me, joking, serious...maybe drunk, or just saying something sweet for once. I took it the way I wanted to take it, as a sweet comment and I pushed my body into his, smiling widely. "Not a chance, Tommy Ryan."

He smiled wider, holding me tight as he started to spin us around wildly. I threw my head back in laughter, holding onto his shirt with all my strength, letting the heat and the beer take me away as I closed my eyes and enjoyed. The spinning slowed and I leaned up, feeling my nose brush against his. My eyes opened and a small moment of hearing nothing and feeling nothing ensued.

I heard a cheer behind me, both Tommy and I looking to the source. Fabrizio and a blonde lady were up on the tables dancing, though everyone was looking at Jack and Rose, who were standing next to them.

Jack had his hands in his pockets, lifting his feet and slapping them down on each different angle and each different time to compliment the music. That prompted rose to take her shoes off, tossing them lightly to a woman standing off to the side. Rose lifted her dress, doing just the same as Jack, only better.

I laughed loudly, glancing back at Tommy, who put his arms over me, hugging me into his chest and laughed along with me.

Jack went again. And then Rose. And then the two of them linked arms, spinning around. They slid away from each other, their hands connecting as they spun around, only smiles to be seen.

I spun around, throwing my arms around Tommy's neck. "Can I have another drink?"

Tommy sighed and smiled. "You can have anythin' you want, love."

Eventually, we were all back at the table, laughing and drinking and talking, which quickly turned into lots of drinking and talking, which turned into arm wrestling. Tommy and the Swedish man, locked in a match. Beers surrounded them and the Swedish man's friend pounded on his back for encouragement. Another man helped Tommy smoke his cigarette.

I laughed and I watched as both of them went red in the face, each one not giving up. Tommy was more red. The Swedish man faltered less, and although Tommy put up quite the fight, his hand was the one slamming down on the table.

Tommy was barely fazed. "Two out of three! Two out of three!"

Their hands came together again, being intercepted by Rose putting her empty drink down. "So -" She started loudly, earning everyones attention. She took Tommy's cigarette out of his mouth, giving it a puff. "You think you're big, tough men? Let's see you do this..." She took a couple steps back. She picked up her dress, holding it out to Jack. "Hold this for me, Jack. Hold it up."

Rose went into ballet's first position, arms out in front of her. She started to grow taller and everyone looked down at her feet. The sheer strength and power she was using was incredibly to push all of her body weight on her feet. She kept going and going and just went I thought she was gonna stop, she was on her toes. It last about two seconds, but it was impressive. She fell into Jack's arms, laughing.

I grabbed the cigarette from her hand before it fell, looking at Tommy's baffled expression as everyone around us clapped.

Tommy wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his lap. "What tricks have you got up your sleeves. Go on and show me."

I didn't know why I felt so bold and so daring and so like myself, just magnified to the tenth degree, but I did. I leaned in close. "Those are tricks I don't show just anyone."

Tommy licked his lips, a mischievous smirk happening upon his nice lips. He reached for his cigarette, surprised when I pulled back. I took a small puff, handing it back to him right after. He stared at me for a long moment. "You're not who I thought you were gonna be when I first saw you, Maddy."

My hands found his arms, curving over his shoulders and continuing around his neck. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Call it whatever you want, love."

He was so beautiful. He was very rough and very tough and very raw and very real. I had never met anyone like him. I hated myself for thinking it and I never wanted to say it, but all came out in that moment.

"When are you going to kiss me, Tommy?"

He just laughed, arms tightening around me. "Maybe later, Maddy."

Before I could reply or even think of a response, the blonde lady who had spent the majority or the night with Fabrizio, grabbed my hand. I got yanked up, being the tenth person to join the long line up being bouncing, dancing, and weaving in and out and through every one else.

Somehow the music grew louder, and the night grew older.

At some point, we had all separated. I wasn't the most sure of where everyone else had gone, but Tommy and I were laughing and stumbling our way down a corridor. I wasn't completely sure of which one. It looked like third class, maybe second, though I would have no idea of how we would've gotten there.

"Tonight -" I sighed heavily. "Is going to be high on the list."

"List?"

"The lists of the best nights of my life, so that when I get old and grey, I shall never forget the nights that brought me undying joy." I took a deep breath. That was a long sentence. I glanced over at him. "I'm sure you've had many nights just like this. This is just another night to you, isn't it?"

He shrugged, smoking his cigarette. "This night wasn't so bad." He started to smile. When he looked over at me and our eyes met, he quickly lost the smile, coughing to himself. "What?"

"You had fun tonight," I teased. "Admit it, Thomas Ryan."

We both stopped walking, the sudden silence and emptiness of the corridor becoming apparent. I leaned against the wall and Tommy took a couple of big steps towards me. "Well, maybe I did. I can admit it." His hands landed on my waist, cigarette in his mouth.

I took the cigarette from in between his lips and threw it to the ground. "You smoke too often." I stared at his lips.

"'Cause I enjoy it, love."

"Well, that's quite silly," I said to him, bouncing off the wall and bumping my chest against his. "Why do you enjoy things that are so bad for you? You need more good things in your life."

"Like what, love?" He raised his hand, running the outside of his pointer finger along my cheek.

It felt natural and normal and almost instinct to simply lean forward and push myself upwards to stand on my toes to press my lips against his. Instantly, our lips fit together. The sound of our lips parting and the mere thought of just having kissed Thomas Ryan, made me giggle. The sound of my laugh made Tommy laugh. The quiet laughter filled the halls a couple feet each way. Both of Tommy's hands found my face, bringing us together once again. Small, sweet movements. One of my hands was on his arm and my other was on his chest. I couldn't pay attention to my hands. The only subject I was focusing on was our lips.

At some point, Tommy's hands had slid away from my face and landed on my shoulders as he pushed me against the wall. He leaned away and sighed, looking at me through saddened eyes. "That's enough for tonight, ya?"

My bottom lip jutted out, in the hopes that he would change his mind. "Why?"

He only laughed, taking my hand and starting to lead me towards my part of the ship. "Because you're quite too delicate, Maddy."

I pouted all the way up to first class deck and Tommy pretended not to notice. Once we reached the top of the steps, I spun around, meeting his gaze evenly, as he stayed a couple steps down. I placed my hands on his shoulders, squeezing. "Are you absolutely, positively sure that the night shall end at this moment?"

"Quite sure, love," he said, sounding quite sure. He leaned in close, placing a kiss on my cheek. Before he could pull too far away, I held him close and kissed him on the lips. He kissed me back for the better part of a minute before pulling away, laughing in my face. "Maddy -"

I took a big step back, smiling at him. "You better have enjoyed all of this because it'll be _the last_ of all of this."

"The hell it will," he told me, still seeming happy as a clam. He reached out and grabbed my skirt, walking up the couple steps to get on the first deck.

"Watch your mouth -" He cut me off by yanking me close, wrapping one arm around me, holding me tight to his chest. His tongue touched my teeth and then the next time he tried, I let him and then his tongue touched mine. I moaned quietly and unexpectedly, both of us leaning apart at the noise. I laughed, taking a breath. "Maybe this night _should_ come to an end." My hand ran along his chest as I looked up at him. "Thank you, Tommy Ryan, for the most wonderful of nights."

"You're welcome, Maddy." He backed away, going back to the stairs, taking a couple steps down and then looking back at me. "Come find me tomorrow, will ya?"

I folded my hands behind my back, slowly turning to head in the opposite direction. "I'll consider." I turned, starting to walk towards the door to get back to my plush, comfortable bed. I had to admit I was tired.

"Maddy!"

I quickly spun around. "Hush!" I shushed him, laughing to myself. "It's quite late for yelling."

"I just wanted to tell you that..." His hand rang around the railing nervously. "This is on my list too."

The smile that spread across my face was so big, it started to hurt. My whole face hurt from smiling. My body ached from dancing. My feet hurt. My stomach felt strange. My head was light. All of these awful symptoms, but I would never take it back. Not for the world.


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

5

I coughed quietly, closing my eyes for a long moment, hearing every single little thing. It wasn't that it _hurt,_ but everything seemed louder. Every time my Aunt clinked her spoon against her cup of tea, I couldn't help but glare.

 _clink_

My eyes opened and I looked over at my aunt.

She glanced up at me and then looked towards the big windows that overlooked the ocean. She tipped the tea to her lips, saying just before, "You came in quite late last night, young miss."

"You sound like mother."

She put her tea down, starting to smile. "What'd you do?"

I smiled too, remembering the night over again, and I did remember. Despite the fact that I was slightly inebriated, I remembered every big moment and every small one from last night. "There was a get together on the third class deck. It was..." I was going to play it off, but I just couldn't. "The best night of my life, Aunt Molly." I came back from my wistful look for a moment. "And I'm not exaggerating this time."

Her lips upturned into a smirk, eyebrows high on her forehead, she nodded approvingly. "I'm happy for you, and I'm proud. At least some of us are having our greatest nights." She huffed, shaking her head. "I can't handle all the stuffy, uptight women aboard anymore."

"Our journey should end soon," I consoled. Silence. And then Aunt Molly took a sip of her tea, letting the cup fall back down onto the plate rather harshly with a loud _clink._ I scoffed, now knowing she was doing it for sport. "Must you do that?"

She ignored me, moving on to a question that was no doubt bothering her. "Was that boy there?"

I nodded. "He was." All the moments of Tommy and I - it made me blush. I took a quick breath to try and compose myself, taking the last couple of bites of my lunch. "I think I will spend my good time outside. The sun should feel nice."

It should. After spending the night a couple decks lower than I ever thought I'd be, I wanted to enjoy the sun, on whatever deck the sun took me too.

"Only after the bible reading."

I flexed a smile onto my face - somehow. "Of course."

I stood with my back straight and my chin high. I found my tone and I stuck with it. Mezzo-soprano, to be exact. I stood tall and I sang the words of the song that were written down in the book and when my eyes weren't of the page, I looked around at all the people.

Rose seemed unchararactisctally down. Her eyes were darker than usual - underneath them. I thought she'd be as spritely as I after the joyous night last night. I knew how close she had been to Jack that whole night.

So why did she look so sad?

Soon enough, people started to pile out. I walked a couple steps ahead of my Aunt, with no words from her for me to slow down. I took that as encouragement, speeding across the crowd of people, getting close enough to reach of for Rose.

"Miss Brown!" Mrs. Bukater stepped in front of Rose, hands folded in front of her, smile drawn onto her awfully tight face. "You seem to be in a rush to leave. You'd do well to slow down."

"Just in a rush to see Rose, Mrs. Bukater." I smiled politely, pushing my curled hair over my shoulders and sighing into the air, mimicking her hands. "You know -" I paused for a moment, glancing at Rose over her shoulder. "Rose and I are going go enjoy some of that wonderful sun."

Her eyebrows rose. She thought it should've been a question, not a statement. "Pardon me?"

"I said -" I walked around her, feeling my shoulder brush against hers - cold to the touch. My eyes stayed with hers as I slid my hand into Rose's. "We're going to enjoy some of that wonderful sun. The ocean breeze will be good for her, you have my promise." I tugged at Rose's hand, spinning the other direction and started to walk.

Rose's arm slipped through mine, that infectious giggle of hers escaping her red, red lips. "I cannot believe you!" She let out a big breath, arm tightening slightly around mine. "I haven't heard anyone speak to my mother that way in years."

"And I would _never_ speak to my mother that way," I said quickly, just picturing the red face and backhand that would've be accompanied by that little performance. "But alas, she's not _my_ mother, she's _yours_." I huffed, shaking my head. "And I have not a clue how you've put up with it for such great time."

People walked past us, mostly heading in the opposite direction. But the sound of the waves got louder and the smell of the ocean became more pungent. The sun started to shine brighter through the windows. Eventually, we emerged onto the deck.

"I don't have much of a choice."

"Of course you do," I reassured lightly.

Rose moved to stand in front of me, a saddened and somewhat desperate look on her face. "Madeline, I envy you."

I chuckled, touching her arm with a soft hand. "Oh, darling, don't be so dramatic."

She shook her head, walking towards the railing of the ship. She leaned up against the railing, looking out onto the sea, the sun shining right into her eyes, though she barely squinted. And then she turned to me. "Last night was remarkable. I haven't had a laugh such as that in a good while. But Jack -"

My brows furrowed. "But what, Rose?" I smiled softly, not wanting to push too much. "You've just said it yourself. Last night was marvellous - one of your greatest joys, if I'm correct. It would've been nothing without Jack. I've seen the way you look at him - I watched it all just last night. You need each other."

"We _want_ each other," Rose said quickly, almost seeming more to try and convince herself and less so to convince me. "We don't need each other."

"I beg to differ, Rose." I looked out at the ocean with her.

It must've been scary for her. She was engaged to another man with the unbearable weight her mother was putting on her shoulders to pull back her intelligence and just try to keep her mouth shut. Girls like Rose needed a voice, but her mother insisted she couldn't have one. In a world that was so very suffocating, all Rose desired was to be free. She was a bird in a cage with the rest of the world - with Jack - waiting for her outside of it.

"My mother says I'm not to see him. She says she forbids it."

"And you'll listen, just like the proper, well-behaved, mindless daughter you are." I turned to her, smiling wide. "Oh, wait."

She laughed, nudging her elbow into mine. "No, I must." Her laughter faded and she wrapped her scarf tightly around her arms. She shook her head, encouraging her red curls to bounce in the wind. "There's too much at stake to be wandering with my heart of my sleeve."

I sighed as well, reaching out as pushing her hair from her beautiful, pale face. "I will stand beside you, behind you, wherever you need for whatever choice you make. But it'd be much of shame to see someone like you become so...ordinary."

There was a moment of looking scared and then she smiled kindly, just like Rose did. "I must go. Mother, Cal, and I have a tour with Mr. Andrews to attend." She started to walk away, turning back to look at me. "Aren't you coming?"

I shook my head, laughing at the thought. "For as much as I love to hear the sound of Mr. Andrews voice -" An incredibly sexy sound. "I cannot be in the presence of your mother or Cal for much more than twenty seconds." Like Rose, I couldn't stop much from coming out of my mouth. "You'll forgive me for my rudeness."

She only smiled wider, nodding. "I will see you at a later time, then."

I watched her disappear behind a wall though a second or two later, I could see her through the windows, walking down the hall, moving out of others' way instead of commanding the space herself. Eventually, she would.

It was only a matter of minutes before I felt the sun was much too hot. If I was closer to the ocean, I would not only be further from the sun, but I would be closer to the comforting ocean breeze. As I gathered the weak excuses to go down to the third class deck, I realized I didn't much need them, as I was already just a couple feet away from the gate to the stairs.

A tall man in a black suit with soft hands stopped me before I could head down the stairs. He looked at me with an eager-to-please smile. "Can I help you miss?"

I smiled widely, touching his arm and squeezing slightly. "Oh, why thank you, handsome." I batted my lashes, letting the charm ooze out of me. I rubbed his arm, pointing out to the ocean. "I though I saw a pod of dolphins just a moment ago. I'd like to get a closer look." I took a couple steps down.

He laughed nervously, hand still hovering behind my back. "Well, there's quite a good vantage point from up here, miss."

" _Closer_ ," I said it and I said it loud and clear, adding a small chuckle at the end. "I want to get closer to them." I patted his shoulders and then bounced down the other steps. "Thank you so much, though, sir, I really appreciate your good work." I kept the facade until I reached the second class deck and then I laughed at myself, continuing down another set of stairs to the third class deck.

"Couldn't stay away, could ya love?"

I picked up my dress to avoid tripping on the uneven wood, feeling the soft dress in my hands slipping. My hands were sweating for some reason. "I find myself travelling down here far too much, Tommy Ryan."

He looked great - not like he had spent all of his night drinking. He might've looked a little worn in the eyes from the late night-early morning combination, but other than that he looked bright and awake. His hair was untamed, not like it was unusual, and he stood tall, really displaying his stature to me. If he was trying to impress me, it was working.

I made a point of looking him up and down, walking closer to him and the dirty railing he was next to. "You look sprite. Do you not feel hungover?"

He laughed lightly - quieter than I had heard before. It was nice. "I don't get hungover, love. I'm Irish." He started to stare at me, eyes unmoving from mine. He didn't say anything, though.

I took a breath, letting my back hit the railing as my knees straightened, stretching themselves out. "I have to admit that I'm not quite as wide-eyed as you today." I glanced around the deck, eyes finding way to his, still staring. "Do you remember much from last night?"

He laughed again - loudly, that time. He took a couple very casual steps towards me, both of his large hands landing on my hips. He pulled my small body against his as he looked down at me with a smile. "Are you tryin' to ask me what I remember?"

I should've felt uncomfortable with the way he was touching in front of so many people, but I didn't. His hands were big and warm and feeling his body against mine was too much for me to find it in myself to push his improper self away.

I held my chin high, hands still folded behind my back. "If that's how you would like to interpret it, please -" I couldn't help the knowing smile that came to my face. "Answer honestly."

He was still smiling. "I remember too much."

I scoffed, hands unfolding as they pressed against his chest, pressing against him to push him away. "Too much?!"

His grip on me only tightened, bringing us together in a kiss. As soon as our lips touched, I stopped pushing, my hands sliding from his chest to nestle into his thick hair. His hands moved as well, coming up to my back to make sure that I was as close as possible. We were pressed into each other, wet lips moving fast.

I leaned away, breathing relatively fast, body still pressed tightly against him. I smiled just barely, catching my breath as I pushed the hair from his face. I pretended to consider. "Not quite as good as I remember it." I removed myself from his grasp, taking a couple steps back.

"Oh, really?" Tommy's eyebrows were raised and he was in sync with every step I took back, he took one forward. He suddenly lurched forward, hands gripping onto my skirt and he yanked.

I screamed, followed by a wild laughter. I tried with minimal effort to get away until I found myself back in his strong arms, wrapped up so tight, there was no escaping, which worked perfectly well for me.

His nose brushed against mine and his arms loosened just slightly around me. He breathed heavily into my face, pushing the cigarette smoke onto me. He then leaned closer, pressing his lips against mine in a shortened, delicate kiss. "Bloody hell, you're a handful, aren't ya?" His hands fell away, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a smoke.

"Watch your mouth," I told him, watching him put the cigarette between his lips. He turned to look more at me, letting the sun shine on his face. He squinted, deep brows furrowed, lips tight around the cigarette. I suddenly felt hot. I breathed out. "I feel hot," I said outright, thinking about all the layers that were on my body. "I should change dress."

Tommy nodded, leaning over the railing, back hunched. "I'll be right here, then."

I glanced up at the top deck, sure that I could get him safely to my room with just a couple hundred of confused glances. "Won't you come, Tommy?"

He chuckled, head turning towards me. He shifted on his feet, a humorous look on his face. He thought I was joking. And when he saw my suggestive look, he stood straight, shaking his head. "I'd love to see you try to sneak me past all the richies, Maddy. In fact -" He pointed at me with the same fingers he held his cigarette. "I'll bet ya a shiny coin you won't be able to do it."

I grabbed the cigarette, flicking it over the boat. I held out my arm for him to take and I waited, the cockiness of him rubbing off on me that easily. "Challenge accepted, Mr. Ryan."

He glanced down at my arm and then looked at my face, one eyebrow high, mouth upturned. He grabbed my arm roughly, taking big steps towards the stairs. "It's your funeral, love."

With the exception of _many_ confused glances, no one actually said much of anything. There were whispers, but none said directly to us. After giving everyone who had the liberty to be in the right place at the right time a fantastically entertaining show, we made it to my room.

I led him into the room, quickly walking over to my bedroom, leaving him in charge of closing the cabin door, as well as my bedroom door. "Come along." I watched him close the door the my bedroom and stand too close to it, unmoving. "Well? What do you think?"

He looked around, scanning every inch. His shoulders relaxed as he let out a big breath. He started to shake his head. "You're stupid rich, you know that?"

"Being well-off is _not_ stupid, Tommy," I told him, smiling to myself. I pulled the folding screen over to me, letting myself get trapped between the screen and my closet. I quickly realized that the window positioned behind me would allow prying eyes to see more than needed. If Tommy wanted to pry, he could pry. I didn't mind. I almost wanted him to.

"You have too many paintings."

"You don't enjoy art?"

"Only this one."

I glanced from behind the screen, catching Tommy's eyes and them looking at the drawing in front of him - the drawing of us. I smiled and hid again, starting to undress. "Yes, well, I must admit it is a favourite of mine as well."

"Does changing dress take long there, Maddy?"

"I won't be a moment," I reassured, feeling the relief as I stripped the layers and layers and layers from myself. "Don't you know? You mentioned a sister once? And what about your mother?"

"They weren't much into lookin' too pretty. My brothers spent more time in front of the mirror than the two of them."

"How many brothers, Tommy?" I was trying to gauge him a bit more. After the casual conversations we had, he revealed much about himself. I wouldn't have called him talkative, but he liked a good brag, but he certainly wasn't bragging about his family.

"Four."

"Goodness me." I had enough trouble with one brother, I couldn't imagine three more. It seemed like so much work. "Do you keep in touch with your family when you're off on these ships?"

"My mother insists. I enjoy a good chat with my brother Dennis." Tommy fell quiet after that, not offering up much more. He didn't seem bothered, just not much interested. I guess he didn't talk about himself much. He was always looking for other people's stories.

That was one thing about Tommy is he always seemed to look forward, never back. The future was fascinating, but the past seemed to bore him.

I heard Tommy walking around, touching things and moving things. Once I slid off the second last layer to my underwear, I grew thankful that I missed the corset this morning.

I peered around once again, the curiosity getting the best of me. He had his back to me, standing at my desk.

His long fingers slid along an open book, the tip of his pointer finger running along the words on the page. "Read often?"

I pulled my stockings off my legs. "Yes. The book it quiet wonderful, Tommy. I could lend it to you, if you so please."

Tommy sounded like he closed it and picked it up, probably flipping it over from side to side and examining it. "How gracious of you, Maddy," he said, with quite the amount of sarcasm. "What's it about?"

"It's about love."

Tommy chuckled. "Aren't they all?"

I slid the last layer off of me, leaving myself in just the thin, white dress. I could feel the wind from the open window rushing over my skin. It felt so nice that I couldn't bring myself to reach for a nice summer dress. I stood in just my undergarments, enjoying the freeing feeling as well as the look of Tommy's backside.

"It's in another language."

"Latin," I told him, making small, light steps closer.

"Qui - Quidem artem - artem -"

I smiled to myself at his attempt to read the title of the wonderful book. "Quidem artem amatoriam invenerunt." Each word rolled of my tongue in a deep and soft way, just like I had practiced for my entire life. It made a chill go throughout my entire body, which was immediately replaced by a warmth I couldn't explain. "Art of Love."

Tommy turned towards me slowly, shoulder brushing against my chest. His eyes rose from my feet to stop at my lips. "Maddy..." The sphere on his neck bobbed up and then down as he took a large swallow.

I looked into his eyes. Usually bright and playful, they were now dark and intense. Another wash of warmth over my body. I felt the tingling sensation crawling up my thighs, stopping and festering at the most peculiar of places. Every millimetre between us felt like pain. "Tommy."

I threw my arms around him at the same time that his wrapped around my back, pulling me into him tightly. We kissed quickly and passionately. Every part of me pressed against him and yet, I pushed harder. I wanted to feel everything at once. The intensity of the moment was indescribable.

His big, rough hands were holding good chunks of my dress. One hand made its way up to hold my neck as my head titled back, the other sliding the opposite direction, cupping around my bottom. I moaned into the air, the feeling of the grip he had on my bottom, as well as his lips and scruff running around my neck. I pulled my head back up, kissing him once again. Both of his hands yanked on my thighs, pulling my legs upward. My ankles crossed over each other behind his back. I hadn't realized we had made our way across the room until we fell against my mattress.

The room was silent other than the sounds of our bodies against the sheets and the heaviness in our breathing.

Tommy was fast and rough. He didn't hold back his strength, despite knowing how small I was. He was a passionate person, I could understand, but maybe the excitement had gotten the best of us.

"Tommy -" I cringed at the sharpness in pain I felt as his hands gripped my hips. He grunted in response, lips following a trail down my neck to my collarbone. "Tommy -"

He leaned away, breathing into my face. He was flushed, though he looked concerned. "What?" He looked me over, seeing the hesitation running over me. He took a deep breath, head falling down. He let himself fall on top of me, head buried in my neck. "You're quite confusin', love."

I laughed, hands finding his curly strands of hair. "There's no rush, that's all." He leaned up and looked me in the eyes, hovering over me once again. I put my hands on his face. "We have all the time in the world."

"Slow..." Tommy leaned into me, pressing his lips to mine in a light, short, soft kiss. "Slow," he drawled out, kissing my cheek, my jaw and my neck. "I can handle that." He kissed my collarbone and then my chest, pulling the thin straps off my shoulders. He pulled my dress down, exposing my bare chest to the room.

It was unlike any feeling. I shouldn't felt uncomfortable to be so exposed, but I was quite the opposite. I had never felt more comfortable or more as if I was where I needed to be in my entire life.

His lips and tongue were softer than they appeared. He leaned away from me, making one quick, swift moment to flip me over onto my stomach. My undergarment gathered around my waist, but I felt it slowly slide off of my body. Tommy rubbed my back, his wet lips then finding my spine. I felt him press into me, the scratchiness of his pants against my completely exposed body.

The scratchiness left and I heard Tommy shuffling around. I turned over, glancing over Tommy in his naked state. He had the body of someone who had been doing hard labour his entire life. Athletic, healthy, but rough around the edges with dips and cracks and scars. I looked up into his eyes, reaching out to grab his shoulder, spreading my legs apart to wrap them around him as he leaned against me. "Slow, Tommy."

"Anything for you, love." He nodded, leaning down and kissing me.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

6

"Madeline Brown, right now!" The was one loud bang on the door.

My head craned up from the oh so comfortable bed, feeling the strain on my neck as I looked over my shoulder, at the door of my bedroom. "Right now what?" I was a little bit disoriented, I had to admit.

I blinked a couple of times, letting my vision settle into my room and my messy bedding, along with a very obvious absence of a tall Irishman. I was lying on my stomach, limbs sprawled, a thin layer of sweat between my naked body and the silky sheets.

"You've been in there all night." A wild over exaggeration.

I let my head fall against the bed again, the exhaustion of the last hour weighing over me. I smiled into the bed, reaching up to touch my still swollen lips. I licked them, tasting the cigarette smoke.

"Maddy, you get your skinny behind out here or -"

I sat up quickly. "Alright, alright!" I slid on a robe, noticing just then how cold the room was. I walked over to the open window, taking a small moment to look out at the stars before shutting and locking it. I tied the robe in front of me, walking past the glamorous furniture to reach the door. "I'm just getting ready for bed now, aunt Molly, I've just been reading."

"Don't think I don't know."

I chuckled, opening the door to my dressed up, ready for dinner, knowing things aunt. "Are you going to claim to by a psychic, aunt Molly?"

She shook her head and waved one of her gloves.. "You know I don't believe in the crap." She looked me over, taking a very small moment to laugh. I couldn't tell what kind of laugh, but afterwards, she said, "Your mother -"

"My mother won't hear a word of this," I said confidently, feeling the regret as soon as I saw her eyebrow rise and her mouth open. "Please? Please, aunt Molly, for me?" I tried to make my face as innocent as it was possible - which wasn't the greatest of challenges. I used to pull the scheme all the time. Call me a veteran manipulator.

"Fine!" She didn't seem pleased with her final decision, but she pursed her lips, starting to walk down the hall. "I'm off to bed. "

I shut the door, walking towards my abundant closet. I stopped in front of the dressing mirrors, looking at myself in the mirrors. Truly, I didn't feel much different. I hadn't felt like anything about myself had changed, other than the fact that I felt much happier. It really was that simple. I couldn't stop myself from smiling before I started. I watched myself smooth down my crazed hair, touching the tender spots on my neck that Tommy had pleasured just some time ago.

I looked over at the bed, sheets awry, pillows sat on the floor. I sighed, picturing back at the moment, feeling the heat rise in my face. My brows furrowed, head tilting slightly.

Where did he go?

I knew there must've been a good enough reason. A man wouldn't put so much of is efforts into wooing a woman just to sleep with her, would he? Not Tommy. Tommy wouldn't. Tommy wouldn't, right?

I walked closer to the bed. I didn't know I was gonna do it until I did it but I reeled my foot back and kicked one of the pillows. I quickly stretched my fingers out in front of me taking a deep breath.

Tommy Ryan was a big time asshole. I'm sure that was not true. I knew it not to be true, but just as well, what kind of man has sex with a woman and leaves immediately afterwards?

I knew there was an explanation to be explained. I knew I was going to look back on this moment in the near future and laugh and how distressed I was. But I was not in the future, I was in the present. And in the present, I couldn't help myself to be a little upset. More angry than upset, but what was a girl to do?

What was a girl to do...other than to put on her simplest dress and roam around the chilly third class deck until the burning anger inside of her got the best of her and she felt the need to go find the source of that anger?

Really, what else was I going to do.

The third class steps were in my sight as I walked towards them.

How could Tommy manage such a thing? I thought...well, I guess in my foolish mind I thought Tommy Ryan and I had something special, as juvenile as that sounded. I wanted to give myself to him. I thought he wanted that too. Maybe I was wrong. But I was not going to sit around on the third class deck eating salmon, just waiting around for Tommy to find the courage to explain himself. The sooner I knew, the faster I would heal from the whole incident.

The deck was eerily quiet. I supposed it was late, after all. All the passengers were likely wrapped tight in their sheets by this time, and so there was not a soul on deck. Just as well, it was cold outside. The night was very unforgiving in that sense - when the sun went down and the stars appeared, the cool breeze from the ocean turned into a biting air, as the darkened ocean waves seemed to crash harder against the boat.

I looked out at the ocean. In the day time, it was a sight I couldn't find myself to look away from. At night, I felt the same, but not because it was so beautiful, but because it scared me. The moon lit up one small path of the waves while the rest looked so dark and dangerous. What lurked beneath the black waves of the deep, intimidating ocean?

The sound of a bell ringing somewhere at the front of the ship made me come out of my thoughts. I shook my head, swinging my skirt around and walking towards the step, trying not to glance back at the scary ocean, but I did. I was mesmerized for a moment or two more and then I took a breath, walking down the steps.

I had only a couple more steps to go before I felt my heel slide around, my skirt caught under it. I would've been just fine if I had simply lifted my foot from the ground and shuffled my skirt, but I never got the chance. The boat jolted and I slipped, falling from the third step up and then landing on the uneven wood with a harsh and loud bang. As I laid on the ground, I felt the ship rumble beneath me, shaking harshly. The horrifying sound of a crackle and a a loud and terrifying screeching whipped through the air.

I stood slowly, feeling an ache on my arm. I shook it, not helping much at all. I picked up my skirt - high - and I kept on with the walking until a tall man in a suit spotted me.

"I know I shan't be down here -" I held my hand out, mind full of excuses I could've used as to why a lady such as myself was roaming around the third class deck.

"Miss, you need to return to your cabin."

He seemed nervous and urgent. His eyes were wide, as if he had just saw an awful sight. He grabbed onto me desperately, pushing me back towards the stairs hastily. "Please, miss, please go to your cabin, please."

I just barely got a look over his shoulder, eyes widening, mouth dropping as I felt my heart stop beating in my chest. "My god."

An iceberg, towering just a bit higher than ship itself was close to the boat - so close that it was scraping against the metal as I stared. I watched pieces break off onto the deck and the all the sounds disappeared and my eyes followed the massive mass of ice stand still as the ship raced past it. The sheer volume of ice...and I knew that what you saw on the surface was barely all that was there. I imagined the mirror image of the iceberg, bigger than the ship itself.

For an incredibly long moment, I didn't breathe. I gripped onto the man's arm. "We just -" The air got caught in my throat again. "Did we just -?" I breathed out, shaking from the cold or the fear of the moment, I wasn't sure. All that was in my mind was that the Titanic had just hit an iceberg.

The man, just as scared as I, took me into his arms and walked over to the stairs. "There is no reason to be alarmed, miss. Please, it's quite late. I will walk you to your room."

I had nothing to say. Nothing. I was sure it was nothing. We had hit an iceberg on the unsinkable ship. It was not a problem at all. And so I let the gentlemanly man walk me to my room.

"Can I bring you anything, miss?"

"No," I said quickly, hand on the knob to my room. "No, thank you." I watched him walk away and I started to turn my doorknob, just then noticing that we had stopped. The ship wasn't moving.

I heard a door open and my aunt Molly emerged from her bedroom. "What in the sam heck -" When she saw me, her eyes widened. "Maddy, hon, you look pale."

I rushed towards her, hands finding her warm ones. I held them tight, feeling my heart pumping deep into my chest and then back, scraping up against my ribs - or that was how it felt. "You mustn't tell a soul. I won't be responsible for a panic."

"Shoot."

I leaned close, dropping my voice to a whisper. "The ship hit an iceberg." I shook my head, still in disbelief. "It was massive, aunt Molly, I couldn't have imagined - I saw the -"

Her hands came to my shoulders, rubbing them. She smiled at me in that kind, warming, motherly way she always had and she said, "I'm sure it's not much of a worry." She looked around briefly. "Every one seems quite calm." She held my hand in hers, taking a couple of steps down the hall. "Come along. Let's go to the deck and see what's going around."

If people weren't wandering the hallways, asking why it was we were stopped, people were outside, wrapped up in their coats, looking around for an _iceberg_. I must've heard the word a million times, but no one seemed in a panic. People were smiling, even. I looked over the railing, watching some people on the third class deck kick a chunk of ice around.

My aunt settled next to a couple she told me she had met once. She looked out at the stars, nodding. "Beautiful night, ain't it?"

I squeezed her arm, walking over to the stairs. "I'll be back." I opened the gate walking down the second class deck, eyes finding the dark red, intense colour of Rose's curls, next to a man with flopping hair. "Rose!" I opened the gate for them as they walked up the stairs.

A group of men passed us as I stood there, the captain standing among them.

One of the four men following close behind the captain said, "Boiler room six is flooded eight feet and the mail hold is worse."

"Can you shore up?" the Captain asked.

"Not unless the pumps get ahead."

"Have you seen the damage in the mail hold?" The silver fox of the decade - the handsomest man in the world, the smart contractor who had designed this entire beautiful ship, had rolls of paper tucked under his arm and he looked worry. Of all the faces I had seen on Mr. Andrews' handsome face, worry was not one of them. And that made me worry.

"No, she's already underwater."

And that was not helping.

Jack watched them go down the steps, hand still attached to Rose. "This is bad." It was simple and it was true.

I slid my hand into Rose's, looking at Jack. "Jack, have you seen Tommy?"

He licked his lips briefly, seeming to genuinely think back in his mind. He looked at me, shaking his head, looking almost regretful. It was too early for that look. "No, I haven't."

"You think the ship is sinking?" I asked Rose.

She looked at me, mouth agape, but no words coming out. She looked forward again. "We should tell mother and Cal." She let go of Jack's hand, turning to me. "Where will you be? Where will I find you?"

"Well -" I hesitated a moment, coming up with a very rushed and likely stupid plan, but it was so simple I thought I could pull it off. "I'm going to go get Tommy and Fabri and we will go wait on the boat deck with my aunt Molly until we all know what is happening."

Rose nodded, squeezing my shoulder. "Wonderful. I'll see you atop."

I nodded, watching her and Jack, hand in hand, rush into the hall. I sighed, looking out onto the third class, leaning over quite a bit to see for myself. Just like upper class, everyone seemed rather entertained than worried. People were smiling and laughing and engorged in the fact that this massive ship had just smashed into an iceberg.

I waited a minute for the guards to be concerned with some people asking questions, laughing with the guards about the whole situation. Everyone seemed busily calm and amused, so it was quite easy to walk down the metal stairs undetected.

I got down on the first class, the air that slight bit chillier. The mood a slight bit more upbeat - even with the bits of iceberg scattered among the old wood floor. I wondered around for a couple of minutes, looking very closely at every face that I passed. None of those faces were Tommy or Fabrizio. The searched seemed like forever. The more faces I passed, the more anxious I became.

I was headed inside to walk through the sleeping quarters as a last resort when a tall man in a uniform appeared in front of me, putting his hands on my shoulders to stop me and then pushing a lifebelt into my hands.

"Miss, I need you to put this on and go wait on the top deck." He put his arm around me, spinning me around and walking me towards to doors. "Let me escort you, miss."

I looked over my shoulder as he walked me towards the doors. "I'm looking for someone."

"Yes, of course, miss."

Suddenly, I was in front of the stairs. I shook his grip off of me, looking at him with furrow brows as pushed the lifebelt back at him and wrapped my arms around myself. "I will not go up to the first deck until I find -"

"Madeline Brown!"

I looked up at my aunt Molly, watching as my breath wafted into the air. "Aunt Molly?"

She waved her hand, a very typical and familiar expression and slight annoyance playing on her face. "Get your butt up here!" She disappeared back over the railing before she could let me respond.

I huffed, glancing at the tall man. "I'll be back." I walked up the stairs, the sound of my heels against the metal making a loud clanking sound. I reached the top, walking over to my shivering aunt Molly. "What is it?"

Aunt Molly grabbed me by the arm, not saying a single word until we walked into the grad ball room - the beautiful gold fixtures and the incredible architecture. With all the people in lifebelts in the room, it somehow seemed like a nightmare. Aunt Molly held my arm tight. "Listen."

I stood still, listening intently to the people around me. Women and men and children - some standing still, some pacing, some walking about. Some seemed worried, some bored, and others confused. Underneath the beautiful music of the men playing their instruments, people were talking.

"Well, the ship hit the berg. Didn't you see?"

"It's the Titanic. It's unsinkable - they said so themselves!"

"What if it does? What if it sinks, and then what?"

Aunt Molly shook her head, her big, black fur coat hanging from her shoulders. "I don't think anyone knows what the hell is goin' on here." She started to walk away, two men that we previously had lunch with walking with her.

I made to follow, but I saw Rose in a soft pink coat, looking around the room. I rushed toward her. "Rose." I reached out, her hands finding mine easily. Hers were cold, yet soft, and I looked at her with furrowed brows. "What's the matter?"

Her concerned face stayed to me while her eyes bolted around. "Something's wrong." She looked past my head. "Mr. Andrews..."

I spun around, seeing Mr. Andrews merely two feet from me, heading up the stairs. Rose and I both reached out, catching him by the arms. I smiled widely. "Handsome, Mr. Andrews, do tell us what's going on."

He looked at me, the smallest of smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "No need to panic."

Rose rose a step, putting her arm on mine, looking at Mr. Andrews with her wide, blue eyes. "I saw the iceberg. And I see it in your eyes. Please tell us the truth." She held onto me and she held onto him and the second of silence after she finished was almost unbearable.

He stared down at her and then looked around, putting his arms around the both of us and leading us away from the crowed gathered in the room. "The ship will sink," he said, making my head feel light.

"You're certain?" Rose asked.

"Yes." No hesitation. "In an hour or so." He started to make his breaths loud, looking around at the room. "All of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic." His hand landed on my shoulder. "Please tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic. And get to a boat - quickly! Don't wait." He looked between us. "You remember what I told you about the boats, Rose?"

I glanced at her. "What about the boats?" The words barely came out. I had lost all my breath and all my sense of feeling.

"Yes," Rose said, looking at me, her chest rising and falling quickly. "There's not enough."

My eyebrows rose and I felt the emotion wash over me. Not enough? There wasn't enough lifeboats for everyone? How could that be? How could they build a ship with not enough lifeboats? How could they, knowing this should a situation just like this arise that not everyone would be safe?

Mr. Andrews put his arm around me. I hadn't realized, but he was very much holding me up. "Miss Brown?"

I looked at him. The second I looked into his eyes, I found my feet on the floor again. "Oh, yes." I looked at him again - his handsome face. "Mr. Andrews, I'm so terribly sorry."

I couldn't imagine what was going through his mind. After putting, truly, his heart and soul into the design on this ship to have it sit at the bottom of the Atlantic for the rest of eternity - I couldn't imagine.

The ship was so beautiful, so grand. It's intricate designs and abundance of space and activities all gone. It was the wildest shame. Only the two-thousand and something people on board would know the beauty of the Titanic and then no other person on earth.

It wasn't fair. This was the ship's first voyage. There was much life to be lived. Surely, the women and men aboard would agree that they were not finished exploring. _I_ was not finished exploring. I was not ready to say goodbye to the life I had built on this ship.

Mr. Andrews's hand sat on my back. He smiled, a little more genuine that time, and he slid away from me. "I'm sorry too." And then he disappeared into the crowd of people.

I turned to Rose, looking her over. I reached up, pushing her fiery hair over her shoulder. "It'll be all right, don't you think?" I tried the most comforting tone I could think of. "We'll grab every dearest to us and get on a boat and then -" I didn't know what came next. "Well, I guess we see what happens then." I took a step back when she nodded sort of airily. I was too nervous to notice. I looked around the room. "I'm going to find aunt Molly," I muttered to myself, walking about the room.

Aunt Molly was still wrapped up in her black fur coat and talking to the two men who were listening very intently to whatever nonsense she was saying. She saw me and smiled. "There's that niece of mine."

I smiled polity at the men. "Mind if I steal her away for a moment?" I didn't wait for a response, though I saw a second later that they were nodding their heads. I pulled her to the edge of the room, leaning against the delicate wallpaper to give myself a breath. "Mr. Andrews has informed me that -" I took a minute to be dramatic and look at her face, sudden thankfully for her in my life. "The ship is sinking. There's lifeboats, but there's not enough," I explained quickly. "You must got outside and get on one as soon as possible."

Aunt Molly shook her head. "Wait a second -" She opened her mouth to go off on one of her famous tangents, stopping when she saw the look on my face. Her hands found mine, holding them tightly. "This beautiful ship is really goin' down?"

I nodded. "Yes. We should be fine once we got on a boat, but -" Again, my breath caught in my throat and I felt my body fill my air as I thought about all of the people there wouldn't be room for. "But you must be fast."

"Me?" She scoffed. "You mean us!"

I shook my head. "You go now. Mr. Andrews says we have around an hour, which is plenty the time to get sorted." I took a step back, looking over her head whilst on my tiptoes to look down the empty hallway. "I'm going to find a couple of friends and I'll join you in a boat."

She shook her head tightly. "I don't think so, missy."

"Please, aunt Molly," I begged, trying to keep the tears from welling in my eyes. "I need to get them." I took a breath. "I need to get _him._ Please understand."

She took a breath and nodded, patting both of my shoulders with her hands and leaning in close. "You better be at those boats in twenty or I'm not gettin' on. I'm serious, Madeline."

I tried to chuckle. "Don't be so dramatic. Just get in one and I'll be there," I said, walking around her and through the crowd of people into the completely empty hallway. I walked through the corridors until I found the stairs and then I wasn't walking, I was jogging, and then I was running. I was running through the hallway and then I was standing still, looking out the little round window. Half of the window allowed me to see the dark night sky while the lower half allowed me to look straight into the dark abyss that was the atlantic ocean.

It was strange. It did not feel like we were moving. It did not feel as if we were sinking. But by my view and the angle of the water, the head of the ship was almost entirely underwater.

Time went by incredibly fast, yet so incredibly slow at the same time. It was surreal. The further I walked, the slower time became and the louder the voices of men, women and children became, all sounding very scared. All third class.

Not enough boats. There wasn't enough boats. They were on the top deck, loading all of first class onto the lifeboats, but what about third class? Where was the room for them?

Half of the people on the Titanic were not going survive. I did not know how to process that. So I kept walking, basically stumbling down the hallway, closer to the sounds of the cries of desperate people.

The lights went off, all of my senses disappearing. My hands were cold. My feet were cold. And my heart was pumping at a million miles a minute. I could feel my heart beating against my ribcage so intently it hurt.

The light came back on, my senses returning and the adrenaline pumping.

I came upon the staircase, my stumbling turning into running again. As soon as I hit the bottom of the stairs, my feet started dragging. I looked down, my calves and downward soaked in water. I kept running.

I came upon a small hallway blocked off by a metal gate. On one side, closest to me was a guard in uniform, yelling through the metal for people to stand back. On the other side was a line of third class that went back as far as I could see, all reaching and clawing and yelling. Children were crying. Mothers looked worried. And men were angry.

"Put that down! Put that _down_!" The guard was yelling.

I leaned and looked, a couple of men holding a bench, reeling back to, I would assume, slam the bench into the gate. I looked closer, recognizing one of the men as Jack. Beside him was Rose.

I almost called out for them, but the motion of the bench being slammed into the gate caught my attention first. I ran forward, grabbing the yelling guard by the shoulders and pulling him aside. "Look out!"

"Again!" Jack yelled.

The man shoved me aside, my back hitting the wall with a thud as I looked up and watched the bench ram into the gate once more, breaking one side off the wall as the metal gate swung open. My eyes found Rose immediately and I yelled, "Rose!" I started for her, men and women rushing past me.

"Maddy!"

I looked immediately to my left, seeing Tommy headed for me, arms open wide. "Tommy!" Every possible emotion washed over me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sobbing into his neck. I was overwhelmed. I was happy. I was thankful to see him.

He held me in his arms, still managing to walk a couple of feet before setting me down. He grabbed my face in his two giant, rough hands and brought my face to his, kissing me hastily. He let go, putting his hand on my lower back and pushing me towards the stairs. "What the hell are you doin' down here, love?"

I picked up my dress, walking forward with the crowd. "You didn't think I would let you sneak out of my chamber room this morning without tracking you down, did you?" I looked up at him, somehow managing a smile.

His hand travelled from my back to my head where he pulled me close and pressed his lips to my hair. He then encouraged me along again. "Come on now. Let's get you on a boat, yeah?"

We came onto the top deck, the ship slanted a fair bit. I looked onto on the deck, people scattered everywhere - mostly men. The sky was so dark, the air so cold, and the water so daunting. The couple of boats that were floating on the water seemed big, yet so small. They were rowing away ever so slowly.

It wasn't like before. There was no laughing or calmly walking about the deck. There was no carelessness or ignorance. By this time, it was made very obvious that ship was going down. It seemed as if everyone knew it. People were panicked - running around, yelling, crying. Crowds hovered around the loading boats. Crew were poking at people to stay back.

"The boats are gone!" Rose said, prompting Jack to hop on the railing for a better view.

I heard Rose asking what was left as I pressed a hand to my forehead, closing my eyes to relieve myself from this nightmare. I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder and I looked up at Tommy. "I'm fine. Honest."

He squeezed, making me look at him again. "Maddy..." He hesitated, seeming the most unsure I had ever seen him in the time I had known him. "Why didn't you get on a boat way back? Why'd you come down for the likes us?"

I turned completely towards him, not having a sentence planned out in my head. I put my arms around his torso, feeling his hard body against mine. The warmth of him was staggering compared to the night air. "I'm not getting on a boat until you're on one first."

He stared down at me, curly hair wild, eyes bright, and mouth open, ready to give whatever he was about to give.

"There are a couple of boats all the way forward."

Rose grabbed my hand and I grabbed Tommy who grabbed Fabri. Jack lead the lot of us across the deck to the very front of the ship.

We ran by the group of men that played at dinner. Their beautiful music seemed such a luxury, especially in the dark moments of the sinking Titanic. And yet, they still played. I was baffled and somehow calmed.

Jack ran fast, leaving me to simply try not to fall. I kept reaching for my skirt, but Rose's grip on my wrist was too tight. I felt myself stepping on the bottom of my damp, heavy skirt. Before I could, we reached the front of the ship.

We took one step toward the crowd and we were sucked in, being pushed and pulled and tossed around. I held onto to Tommy tightly and he held onto me. People yelled and pushed and one of the crew stuck a gun into the air to fire warning shots.

"Men fall back! Women and children only!"

"Get back, sir! Come through, madam! Stay back, sir! Women and children only!"

"You guys better check the other side." Jack turned as much as he could in the tight group to face Tommy, Fabri and I. "Go!"

Tommy yanked on me, the three of us running around the the other side of the very front of the boat. It was as if we hadn't moved at all. There were a couple of boats left, as well as a swarm of people wanting to get on, and a couple of crewmen telling the men to stay back.

Again, we were sucked into the crowd.

I bumped against Tommy, looking up into the sky and groaning. "Oh, it's useless!" I sighed, eyes meeting his in a slight panic and I shook my head, my bottom lip starting to quiver just like it did when I was just a child. "We're not going to make it on."

Tommy shook his head, pointing his long finger at me. "I don't wanna hear that from you!" He pushed against me, bringing us to the front of the crowd. The cold air hit us and Tommy pulled me into a very tight embrace. "You're gettin' off this damned ship, Maddy." He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me away from him, looking over me at the boat. "You're gonna live, goddammit."

I looked over my shoulder at the boat. People were piling in fast and franticly. I looked down, realizing someone was holding out there hand for me to take. My head whipped around to look at Tommy, eyes wide. "No." I shook my head, very determined. "No! Not without you!"

He breathed heavily, running his cold, cold hand over my cheek. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. I went to get us coffee, but -" His deep chuckle ran through the air. "I got escorted off the richies deck. I was hoping you'd come stumblin' onto third, the charmin' way you do, so that I could explain and, well, I guess I have now." I didn't have any words. I just held onto him tightly. "Last night's on my list." I laughed, the coldest tears I ever cried rolling down my cheeks. He smiled widely. "Number one, I'll admit." He pushed against me. "You'll get in this boat and I'm gonna see you later and we'll make plans to do it again, yeah?"

I held onto him tighter the more he pushed. I shook my head quickly, not feeling at all ready to let go. "No, wait -"

He yanked me forward for just a moment to press his lips against mine. And then he let go.

I fell through the air for only a second, my back hitting one of the benches in the boat harshly. I groaned, opening my eyes and looking up to see that curly-headed man staring down at me. He seemed so far away. I stood immediately, reaching out for him, realizing only then that the boat was lowered too low for me to reach. "Tommy! Tommy!" I yelled, cupping my frozen hands around my mouth. "I'll be seeing you shortly!"

I hoped, wished, and prayed that saying it aloud meant it had to come true. I watched Tommy give me a thumbs up and then disappear. I sat down on the bench next to a woman who looked similar to my aunt. She had her arms wrapped around two small children and she was sobbing. I scooted closer to her, putting an arm around her. She simply put her arm around me as well, the four of us forming a warm huddle.

Soon there was a panic so intense that, even at the distance we were, it was as if the screams of the people were right in my ear. I looked back only for a moment to see the horror. People were jumping off the sides, smacking against the icy water. I feared for them. Some resurfaced, others didn't. The lights went out. The sky darkened and the ship became a black mass in the night. And then the boat, tipped so far, began to groan. The pressure was too much to bare. The boat broke apart from the middle, leaving the half already in the water to sink down into the Atlantic, and the other half in the air to smack down onto the surface. It was only a moment before the half left was going under.

The most incredibly horrifying scene was unfolding before all of us. There was not a thing we could do. I turned away and I prayed for Molly, Rose, Jack, Fabrizio, Mr. Andrews. I prayed for Tommy. And then I prayed for everyone again, over and over.

I closed my eyes and I waited and waited and waited until the screaming became less loud and then it faded to a faint yelling.

It would be hours before a rescuing ship would come, so a boat set out for some survivors. One boat. Out of all the boats, only one went out to search.

There were crowds of frozen bodies, some face down, some face up. There were so many. So many people that did not survive.

I couldn't bear the sight, but I had to look. Tommy, Rose, Fabrizio, Jack - they had to be among these people. I hoped, rather, that they were on a boat, but I wasn't going to let them slip by if they were freezing in the Atlantic. And so I looked. I looked at every single body that I could see. A couple of people must have been swimming. A couple of people came back on the boat it looked like. Their skin was blue, lips purple, eyes wide, and they were so cold they didn't even shiver.

I pulled one woman into my side, wrapping a wool blanket around her. I rubbed her shoulders. "It's all right now. It's all right." She sobbed, leaning into my body. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. "It's over now."

We searched. We kept searching. The longer we searched, the quieter it got. Eventually, it was silent.

There was no Tommy that I could see. No Rose and no Jack and no Fabrizio.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own anything from the movie _Titanic_

* * *

7

The sun rose over the Carpathia - the ship that took all the people in from the boats. The sun warmed every body aboard the smaller ship. They were people scattered about everywhere. Many were crying, many searching, some reuniting. Many did nothing but sit where they sat and stare out unto the ocean that had been so cruel to us just hours before.

There were people strewn every where. They were women with children, women by themselves, small families, and some lone men.

I stood by the railing, letting the warmth from the sun splay over my back. I wrapped the blanket tightly around me, glancing over my shoulder and my sleeping aunt. I turned to look back at the ocean.

It was bluer and brighter than it had ever seemed before. The sky was clear. The wind was still cold, but everything was silent - or it seemed that way. The ocean rumbled and the people talked but, to me, it was nearly silent. It was almost peaceful.

I was still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. The tragedy that struck was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was unlike anything I would ever see. And other people would hear, but they would not _know_. People will read in the paper of what happened but they will not know what it was like to watch.

People jumping from the top balcony. People disappearing into the dark waters. People shoving and yelling and fighting. People screaming for help, knowing full well they were not going to get any. The hopelessness. The astonishment. The ship breaking in half. The beautiful ship - beautiful Mr. Andrews...at the bottom of the ocean.

There were no words.

I didn't understand.

Not enough lifeboats. Not enough time. Not enough effort.

The first class had ruined everything. Though not completely direct, the seperation of class surely made a situation like that all the more worse. The way they went on without a care in the world, already having a secure seat in the boats. The completely unserious way everyone seemed about the sinking while other people - third class people - were not allowed to come up from the third class deck.

Truly, I was astonished by how people acted. Some had bravery and courage like I had never seen. Others were selfish cowards. Desperate times could bring out the best and worst of a person. I just wished it was more often best rather than worst.

And even now, on the Carpathia, there was two decks. One for first class, one for second and third.

I looked down past the railing, noticing how much more uncomfortable and desperate everyone seemed. I stared out, unsure how else to feel. There was nothing I could do to bring any of their left behind families back. I glanced back once more at a sleeping Molly before descending onto the second deck.

I had not yet built up the courage to look for Tommy, Rose, Jack, or Fabrizio.

I was unsure if I wanted to know. If I never knew, at least I could wonder and hope and wish. If I couldn't find them, then I knew they were dead. I wasn't sure which was better, which was worse.

I sighed, walking down the stairs and looking around. I past a lot of people. One woman clamped onto my arm, asking if I had seen her daughter. I told her I hadn't and she moved onto the next person. I walked around, brushing up against many people, but none of the people I was looking for.

And then, leaning against the railing, I saw Rose. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, over the huge overcoat she was wearing. It couldn't have been anyone else, but I walked up to her to be sure. "Rose?"

She spun, eyes wide at the sight of me. Her forehead crinkled and she threw her arms around me, rocking me backward. I grabbed the railing quickly for stabilization and then returned the embrace, just as tight. She held me tightly for a long time and it still wasn't long enough. She loosened, taking a small step back. "I'm elated to see you."

I smiled, cradling her hands in mine. "And me you." I looked her over. She seemed almost in perfect condition, other than a bland and distant look behind the eyes. I wondered what her story was but I didn't dare ask. "How - I mean, how did you -"

"Make it?" Rose looked out at the ocean briefly and then she turned back to me, her pale face looking nothing but sad and longing. I imagined Jack wasn't next to her for a reason. I hoped I was wrong, but deep down, I knew the truth. She looked at me. "One of the rescues boats took me in." She shook her head, looking at the wooden floorboards. "I nearly missed it."

I placed a light, comforting hand on her shoulder. "I prayed to every star in the sky that you'd be all right." My hand fell. The intensity of the emotions I had been pushing down for so long started surface. "I prayed for everyone." I took in a shaky breath, pressing my lips together tightly, brows furrowing. I blinked a couple of times, sucking back any hoarding emotions I had. "Molly is fine. Your mother is on the top deck. And I saw Cal walking around somewhere."

Cal got to survive, and Jack didn't. What a cruel world it was.

Rose nodded. "I saw them, but they did not see me." She held onto the railing, eyes fluttering as she breathed in the salty air. "I cannot go back to that wrongful life, Madeline. My mother had asked if the lifeboats were going to be seated according to class. I can't go back to that life." She looked at me desperately, grabbing my hands. "When the man comes around, I'm going to tell him my name is Rose Dawson and you're not going to breathe a word of seeing me on this ship."

She was so beautiful. So unlike any first class woman I had ever met. She was almost her own, and after all of the tragedy that struck, and after all of the things Jack had taught her, and after Jack had given her all he had when he really had nothing, she was finally, completely her own. A new life and name to match seemed suitable to me.

"Rose Dawson," I repeated back. The name seemed to suit her more than her previous name ever had. "A brand new start." I took a step away from her, nodding my head slightly. "You've endured so much. You should be proud." I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. So I smiled and I stepped around her. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Dawson, I'm going to check to see if my lovely aunt is drooling all over her fur coat." I heard her chuckle behind me and I walked towards the stairs.

Someone stepped on my skirt just as I walked up the steps and I spun around, meeting the face of no one. I looked down, a little blonde girl with two red cheeks looking up at me. She took a step back. "I'm sorry."

I smiled softly, pulling my skirt closer to me. I looked down at her youthful face, wondering how well she remembered last night and how she would ever forget for the rest of her young life. "That's all right." I watched as she, satisfied, pranced away, all the way around me and then to the other side of the boat. She nearly ran into a man moving to sit down on the bench and I watched her apologize again.

Looking out at the ocean, the man took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and then sat down. He smoked for a second before stretching his limbs out on the deck. He took the hat off of his head and placed it over his face as he leaned back, leaving his cigarette to sit between his fingers on the bench. And then he was still. Just the smoke from his cigarette moving through the air. The only other thing moving were his bouncy, big curls as the wind went through them.

I walked toward him slowly, every step on the floor seeming so incredibly loud. I breathed through my nose as my lips were pressed tightly against each other. My fingers curled into my hands and then out again. I walked and breathed slowly, full preparing myself for the man to be any other person except for the one I hoped it would be. I came closer and closer and I walked to stand in front of him. I couldn't speak, so I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the brim of his hat, lifting slowly.

Tommy looked up at me, brows furrowed for just a moment, wondering who had the audacity to touch his hat. His expression barely changed, or maybe it did and I couldn't see it because he moved so fast. He stood quickly, wrapping his strong arms around me. He stood tall, lifting me off the ground and hugging me so tightly, I feared I'd stop breathing. "Maddy," he whispered into my ear, one hand on my back, the other on the back of my neck as I felt my feet touch the floor.

I leaned away to get a close look at him. He looked the same - exactly. From the curls to the eyes to the widened smile to the cigarette still in between his fingers. I smiled widely, feeling my cheeks burning. I reached down and took the cigarette from his fingers, flicking it overboard. "You smoke too often."

He ran his cigarette-smelling fingers over my face, looking down at me with interested eyes. "I enjoy it, love."

I put my hand on his chest, pooling the material from his shirt into my hand. "You need more good things in your life."

He chuckled, not giving me the romantic response I envisioned. "Like what, love?"

I scoffed, taking a big step back. "Like _what_?!" I said incredulously. I didn't have time to get too far from him or be offended as he grabbed the skirt of my dress and yanked me forward, pressing his lips against mine.

The scruff on his face rubbed against my chin. His big hands held me closely against his burly body. He pushed me against the railing, his wet lips moving against mine quickly. The heat from his body and the heat from mine - I had to pull away.

I took a big breath of fresh air, looking up at him, smiling again. I pressed my hand to his scruffy cheek, rubbing my thumb in a gentle manner. "This feels quite too good to be true." My hand slid down to his chest again and I sighed into the air. "I thought -" The words caught in my throat, but I felt like I could say it now that I knew it to be untrue. "I thought you might've not made it."

Tommy's hands hung loosely against my waist and then he detached himself, moving toward the railing. The intensity of this eyes were captivating. He didn't look away - not for a second, and so neither did I. "Give me a bit more credit, love." One side of his mouth upturned charmingly. "I'm a tough Irishman. I can survive anything."

I laughed softly and then silence fell upon us. The air hung tense for just the moment, the two of us silently acknowledging that the two of us were standing across from each other, overjoyed, but there were plenty of people who weren't - Jack and Fabri weren't.

I rubbed his arms, giving him a comforting look that he seemed to notice and accept. "Tommy..." I didn't want to ask what happened after he pushed me onto the boat, I just wanted to thank him for it. "Thank you for looking out for me -" I took a breath. "Even if that was your shoving me off the ship."

Tommy laughed at that, reminding me just how long it had been since I heard him laugh, and just how amazing of a sound it was. He reached up and ran his thumb along my cheek briefly, warm eyes darting over my face. "Whatever it takes, love."

I didn't want to talk about it anymore at that moment. The heaviness of the whole night hung over me still, but it seemed significantly less heavy now that I knew Tommy was at least alive, and seemingly well. There would be a time to go over it all, but it wasn't then - not that day - not standing on the Carpathia, the result of the tragic events standing next to us or walking around the boat, reeling at what had happened.

Tommy and I stood next to each other, both of us with our arms around the railings, looking out at the ocean.

"Do you like New York, Maddy?"

I pictured the streets of New York in my head and the sick cousin I had much forgotten about. "Not an incredible amount." I glanced at him at my side, moving to wrap my arms around myself.

"My brother says there's too many richies." He glanced at my sideways just like I had him, though he was much more mischievous than I. "No offense to ya, love."

I laughed quietly, turning my head completely to face him, finished with the subtle side-looks. "Why New York then, Thomas Ryan? If there were so many other venues to choose, why not choose them instead?"

He chuckled to himself. "Bloody hell then, how do you feel about Vermont?"

My eyebrow rose. My pestering had caused him to change his mind. "So easily persuaded, Ryan. However will you choose?"

His eyes narrowed, seeing to challenge, and in his deep, husky, Irish voice, he said, "Flip ya for it."

The heat inside of my intensified just by the sound of his voice. And then it did again when I thought of the two of us underneath the rest of the world in that hot and sweat-filled room, flirting relentlessly. I also recalled how many times Tommy arm wrestled the muscular Swede. "Let us arm wrestle, because its been made obvious just how _fine_ you are at that." I subconsciously took a step back in anticipation of his actions.

Tommy's eyebrows were raised on his forehead. When I leaned back, he leaned forward, and then he reached out to grab me, to which I screamed, followed by a wild laughter from the both of us. Myself, trying not all that hard to get away, found myself back in his strong arms with nowhere else to go.

His nose brushed against mine and he loosened his arms around me. He looked down at me with a serious enough face. "How do you feel about Ireland?"

I kept the knowing look from my facial expression. I tried to seem impartial, as well innocent. "I'm afraid I don't know. I've never been."

His face matched mine - impartial, innocent. "Maybe one day, yeah?"

I couldn't say I was completely sure what he was asking me or of me. To be the most honest, I couldn't say I cared much. Whatever it was, whatever he wanted, whatever he was asking, my answer was - "Yes." I nodded, unable to retain a face without emotion. I started to smile.

I didn't have a chance to see his reaction because he leaned into my face so hastily. When his mouth came so close to mine, I could feel his smile before he pressed lips onto mine in a simple, delicate kiss.


End file.
